


Reality Jumper

by animatedrose



Series: skekTah's Adventures [2]
Category: The Dark Crystal (1982)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Animal Attack, Art, Betrayal, Blood, Bonding, Broken Bones, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Danger, Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Empathy, F/M, Feral Behavior, Fever, Forbidden Romance, Friendship, Gelfling-Skeksis friendship, Gifts, Hidden Passages, I own no one except skekTah, Lots of Crying, OC owners will be named and linked, OCs meeting other OCs, Original Character Death(s), Original Gelfling characters, Original Skeksis characters, Pain, Poison, Punishment, Punishments, Reality Jumping, Scars, Separation Anxiety, Sickness, Slavery, Stargazing, Sympathy, Tah snaps again, Tears, Unlikely Friendships, Unlikely alliances, WTF, art as blackmail, dangerous plants, death by strangulation, differences in realities, drawing in the stars, ghosts live in the sky, learning new things, minor conjunctions, pain and suffering, poor guy, references to events in VotSatE, skekLa is too affectionate, skekMal causes friendships, skekTah gets hurt a lot, skekTah is a Skeksis of many skills, skekTah is a tragic guy, timeline jumping, world jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animatedrose/pseuds/animatedrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skekTah is in the crystal chamber during a minor conjunction and the Dark Crystal sends him to a parallel version of his own world. He meets many strange Skeksis and other creatures, has weird adventures, and learns quite a bit along the way. But his goal remains the same - trying to get home again!</p><p>Makes use of other Skeksis OCs and such, all with permission given by the owners. Feel free to contact if you want to have skekTah turn up in your TDC world or meet your Dark Crystal OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. skekLa: Art

**Author's Note:**

> skekLa belongs to the lovely SkekLa over on deviantART.
> 
> Her and skekTah's first meeting is a reference to a brief little meeting thing SkekLa and I did in the comments of my first drabble, Old, over on DA. It spawned this thing in my brain.
> 
> Enjoy!

skekTah could not believe he had been convinced to participate in this.

His only goal in this was to go home. All he needed to do was wait around, safely out of sight of everyone else in this reality, for another minor conjunction to occur. Then he’d be home again.

He was not supposed to be interacting with this reality’s inhabitants, let alone leaving any trace of himself behind here!

Yet here he was, in skekLa the Illustrator’s quarters, attempting to draw.

There was no skekLa in his reality. There was no Illustrator in his reality’s court. Yet her story seemed to match his in that respect. There was no skekTah or Schemer in her reality’s empire.

But now there was, thanks to that minor conjunction. And that was probably very, very bad.

Thankfully, when he’d turned up in the crystal chamber in her reality, the only one to have seen him was skekLa. Much like him, she seemed to have come to the conclusion that this was not normal or good. Instead of outing him to the rest, who were rushing toward the chamber to answer the crystal’s cry, the Illustrator had led him safely away to her own quarters, where he’d remained for the past few days.

skekTah wished he could speak to skekZok or skekTek. They’d have an idea when the next minor conjunction could be.

But he couldn’t. They weren’t his skekZok or skekTek. They wouldn’t know him. And if they were as xenophobic in this reality as his were back home, they may try to kill him out of a self-declared need to defend themselves from a foreign entity. And he doubted dying here was very good for his reality or skekLa’s.

So in the Illustrator’s quarters he stayed, safely out of sight of any other Skeksis.

He faintly recognized the Illustrator, though from where, he had no clue. It felt like a dream of some kind. Perhaps she came briefly to his reality at some point? He wasn’t sure. It made no sense. If so, it had been a long time ago and was so impossibly brief.

The Illustrator was a puzzle to him. For one, she referred to herself with the female gender pronoun. He was used to the court using the male pronoun. skekLa was strange in that fact. Unique. He didn’t understand why she’d choose that, but he wouldn’t argue about it. It was her choice, not his. Plus this was her reality. The rules could work differently here than back home, however minutely. He wasn’t about to ask her to clarify. He’d simply accept it and move on.

There were a few others in this reality that were not present in his. Likewise, familiar faces in his reality were missing from this one. It was rather heartbreaking.

But he had no time to think on those quite yet. He had no clue how long he’d be here in this reality.

Could he even get home? Surely he could. He got here. Surely he could go home again.

…Hopefully, he could…

He wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in this reality, even if skekLa had shown him nothing but kindness.

He missed home. He missed skekVar and skekMal and the others of his alliance. He missed not being stuck in one room for days on end with very little to do except wait and hide.

“Almost done, Lord skekTah?”

Ah, that too. skekLa kept calling him Lord. He hadn’t carried that title since before the Gelfling Gathering. Nobody he knew in the castle had ever called him Lord since then.

It felt nice to have that title again, even if only for a little bit.

“Uh…”

In all honesty, skekTah didn’t want her to see his attempt at drawing. It looked horrible compared to the clean, detailed works that skekLa made with that quill of hers. His drawing looked all squiggly and lopsided and the furthest thing from realistic ever. It looked like he’d attached a paintbrush to skekNa’s tail, blindfolded him, and had him try to walk in a pattern in a big room.

In other words, nothing short of complete failure.

He’d tried painting before. He couldn’t do anything detailed or ornate, but he could spread great swaths of color around easily. skekZok had said it was called splatter painting. skekTah liked splatter painting, even if it was insanely messy. It was easy and looked pretty.

“Lord skekTah?” skekLa looked at him, confused. “Are you done? Your pencil hasn’t moved in a while.”

He could crumple it up right now. Or rip it. She’d never need to see it.

…Too late. skekLa had already wandered over to look. He had no time to hide it.

“Oh.” She blinked. “That looks…unique?”

“Don’t lie.”

“It’s not very good,” skekLa admitted. “But you’ll get better with practice! And with how long you could be here, I bet you’ll be a very good artist before you go.”

“Thanks for the motive, skekLa, but I think I’ll pass on that. Art isn’t my thing. Spying is,” skekTah replied, sitting up and groaning when his back cracked.

She flinched at the noise, looking at him with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay, Lord skekTah?”

“I’m fine. I still have my herbs. I’ll live,” skekTah reassured, stuffing a few of the bitter leaves from his pocket into his beak.

He didn’t have much left, really. His herbs were quickly running low. skekLa couldn’t identify the variety of plant and having her ask around would look too suspicious. skekTah had resolved to keep up his illusion that he was in no shortage of his herbs and handle the problem once it became one. There was no need to trouble the Illustrator any further than he already was.

After all, she was allied with the Chamberlain, who in his reality was one of his primary foes.

His reality’s skekSil persisted in trying to gather secrets and encroach on the Schemer’s position. The Chamberlain had made little headway but it only took one big secret to tip the scales against one of them. skekTah had been fighting since the Gelfling Gathering to avoid such a positional upset between them.

The Schemer had decided immediately to avoid the Chamberlain of this reality, even though skekLa would’ve probably felt more comfortable not withholding such a big secret from him. skekTah could tell just from the way she spoke of the Chamberlain that she regarded him highly and with much affection. How much, he wasn’t fully certain, but it was much more than he felt was necessary in an alliance.

The risk of skekTah being exposed to the rest of this reality’s court was just too high. The Schemer couldn’t trust the Chamberlain, even if it wasn’t his reality’s Chamberlain. The risk was just too great. It was bad enough anyone had seen him at all.

skekSil was skekSil. The Schemer doubted that the urge to expose an outsider, especially in pursuit of power, would be so easily ignored in the Chamberlain, even with skekLa on said outsider’s side.

skekLa rose from her seat. She had to go deliver scrolls to the Scroll-Keeper now that she had added her illustrations to them. Granted, the usually boring scrolls looked much more interesting now.

skekTah almost wished there was an Illustrator in his reality. It would make reading those scrolls much more enjoyable, he decided.

“I’ll be back shortly, okay?” skekLa said.

“I’ll stay. I wouldn’t dare leave,” skekTah reassured, settling on the ground again.

skekLa quickly left, closing the door behind her. A sharp clunk signaled that it had been locked. skekTah instantly felt safer. It would be difficult for anyone else to get in here now.

He shifted his gaze across skekLa’s workspace. Drawings of all kinds littered the table and the wall above it. There were plenty of her and skekSil, along with numerous ones depicting the members of her alliance. A few of the Skeksis he did not know were also drawn, all beautifully detailed.

He glanced down at his own poor drawing. His skill was childish compared to hers. He felt rather sick, looking at his messy lines and lack of actual detail. Shame filled him. What had he been thinking, letting her talk him into trying?

…Nobody started out that skilled…

He could pursue this if he wanted to.

skekLa was right. Who knew how long he’d be here for? There was no way to judge the passing of a minor conjunction until it was already in progress, unless you were skekZok or skekTek. Since he could not ask either of them for those answers and skekLa couldn’t ask without looking suspicious, all he had was time to kill until he got some rough estimate of when the next one could be.

He smiled, standing up on his numb legs. Maybe he’d try learning how to draw.

Snapping the tip off of one of his tail spines, he pinned his rubbish drawing to the wall near some of skekLa’s. It would serve as his motivator. He hoped she wouldn’t mind. If she did, she could take it down. He’d just use hers as a motivator instead.

If she liked it, she could keep it. He didn’t care.

He probably shouldn’t be leaving evidence of himself behind in this reality…but what harm could a drawing do?

He settled back down against a wall to nap. There really wasn’t much else to do here until skekLa got back. At least he’d never really be exhausted...

.o.o.o.o.

“Lord skekTah? Lord skekTah?”

“Nnnn?” skekTah roused himself, blinking tiredly up at the Illustrator. “What?”

She turned, indicating his drawing. “Where’d you get that pin?”

skekTah chuckled in amusement. “Call it…a piece of myself.”

The Illustrator looked confused.

No surprise. He hadn’t told her about his tail. He rather liked that look on her face. Confusion was an emotion he relished in witnessing, especially when he was the cause.

He settled his beak atop his arms, which were atop his knees. “I’m taking a nap. Wake me in a few hours or if you need me for something.”

He fell asleep quickly. A new skill he’d picked up over the many trine since the Gelfling Gathering. His spying didn’t allow him to follow his old sleep schedule anymore. He slept when he could and worked the rest of the time.

The skill worked nicely here. Not that skekLa was very loud. It was just useful to sleep near instantly, to shut his mind off so quickly. It helped to kill time.

Once he was out, skekLa turned to inspect the drawing. It was haphazard and messy, drawn with a childlike scrawl to it. It was rather cute. It depicted two messy figures that she could only guess were Skeksis.

She wondered who they were. skekTah hadn’t put any writing on the page. She had seen his writing. It was lovely, though he claimed his urSkek writing had been much better.

It was the pin that caught her attention. It was tall but thin in width, pointed into what she could safely assume was a rough triangle shape. It was an off-white color and almost looked serrated, like a tooth but it was much too thin. She couldn’t recall seeing anything like it before.

She reached up to touch it and yelped, yanking back her hand. The tip of her finger was sliced, a single drop of blood oozing out. She stared at the pin in shock. She had barely touched it!

Sucking softly on her cut finger, she turned to look at the sleeping Schemer.

“Hmmmmmm…”

Perhaps there was much more to him than she had initially believed.


	2. skekLa, skekKel, and skekFer: Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since SkekLa liked the first one very much, I’ve dabbled more in this one. It was not supposed to be this long…
> 
> skekLa belongs to SkekLa, skekKel belongs to SkekKel, and skekFer belongs to FeruFeru. All of them are over on DA. Check them out. They are all awesome!
> 
> Enjoy!

****

Two weeks. skekTah had been here for roughly two weeks and there was no sign of a conjunction of any kind among the three sun brothers. It was frustrating.

Two weeks stuck in this room. It was suffocating but to leave was too dangerous. Perhaps if he was given the time, he could try and find his hidden passages. Surely no one could have found them in this reality. But if someone did…and he crossed them…

No, too dangerous. As much as he hated it, staying in this room was the only real safety he had left.

He spent most of his time either dozing or attempting to draw. His lines had grown less wobbly and one could at least discern the subject of his rough sketches, though he still couldn’t do it right. But he was trying. And why not? There was nothing else much to do here.

skekLa, his kind rescuer, had been impossibly patient with him. She was almost too nice. No wonder she was among the lesser ranked Skeksis in this reality’s court. It made the Schemer snicker. Like some twisted reflection of his own position back in his reality.

The similarities were laughable, in their own way. But he wouldn’t laugh aloud. He wouldn’t draw any attention to the Illustrator.

For two weeks, skekLa had snuck him food and kept him safely tucked away in her quarters. So far, the closest another Skeksis had gotten was out in the hall just outside of skekLa’s door. The Illustrator had permitted no one to enter her room, not even the Chamberlain. Hearing her fumble for excuses was amusing but that wasn’t what skekTah paid attention to.

It was the Chamberlain’s patient, if rather curious, acceptance of her excuses that caught skekTah’s interest. The Chamberlain did not attempt to force an entry into the room. Even when the Illustrator stammered and flailed hopelessly for reasons to keep him out, he never pressed the issue. With a soft whimper, skekSil accepted each excuse and they held their meetings in another quiet, isolated spot within the castle.

skekTah had prodded at that relationship at times with the Illustrator. It bugged him. skekSil held no true positive relationships in his reality yet here in this one, skekLa and the Chamberlain seemed unusually close. If the Schemer needed to describe it exactly, he’d say it resembled the loving manner between two mated Gelfling.

But Skeksis did not mate, did not love. That was impossible.

…Right?

Perhaps that would be a thing to discreetly pick away at later.

The Chamberlain of this reality was very much like the one he knew from back home…yet he was different too. Softer, kinder almost. This baffled the Schemer. skekSil was not kind or gentle or even caring. All of that had been acts, deceit against those around him. Yet here, it seemed very genuine to skekTah’s ears.

Maybe it was because he was seeing a different side of the Chamberlain here. A side that nobody saw because nobody had ever gotten as close to him as the Illustrator had.

skekTah didn’t know. It was strange to fathom. skekSil, caring for someone that wasn’t himself. It seemed foreign, rather impossible…yet many so-called impossible things had already appeared in this reality.

The Schemer resolved to pick away at this topic at a later date. skekLa had returned and she looked distressed. Perhaps skekUng and skekNa had harassed her again.

“You have to leave!”

“What?” skekTah jolted at that. “Leave? Is a minor conjunction coming?”

“No! skekSil is!” skekLa replied, bustling around her chamber. “Oh, where to put you? Where to put you?”

“Why is the Chamberlain coming here?” skekTah demanded, slowly getting up from the floor where he’d been sitting.

“skekUng came across our usual spot and chased us off. We split up but skekSil will be here soon,” skekLa replied, tugging at her long hair. “Oh, skekTah, I tried! I tried so hard but there’s nowhere else we could go!”

“Hush, Illustrator! I’ve got an idea where I could go,” skekTah reassured, back cracking as he straightened. “In my reality, there are hidden passages between the layers of stone and crystal in the walls of the castle. If I can verify that these are here in this reality, I can hide in there until the Chamberlain leaves.”

He’d never told anyone about his hidden passages before. They were his secret, one he jealously guarded. If anyone else found them, his main method of gathering secrets and advantages over others would be lost. Spy animals were too prone to interference by other Skeksis and merely moving around on foot in the open would stir up suspicion in would-be victims. No, the tunnels had secured him many victories and much protection from danger back home.

He prayed they were here. They were not Skeksis made, so there was a chance that the tunnels existed here. He just needed to find them.

skekLa scanned the halls, limping down the length of each before daring to declare it safe. Then, for the first time in two weeks, skekTah emerged from the Illustrator’s room.

The castle looked roughly the same, but he could spot differences. A few strange insignias and tapestries decorated the hall. The walls bore marks and scars that they didn’t bear back home. Tiny things that reminded him that he wasn’t home right now.

He was in a terrifying similar, yet very different, place.

“How do we find these tunnels, Lord skekTah?”

“Look for cracks in the walls. They’ll be minor, difficult to spot with the naked eye. Use your hands and feel for long, vertical ridges in the wall. Sharp edging is good, that means it’s an opening, but don’t move the rock until you tell me first,” the Schemer instructed. “I know of tunnel entrances at home that collapsed because I had moved the rock wrong.”

skekTah and skekLa slowly edged their way along the hall from her room, crushed against the walls, hands splayed as long fingers hunted for cracks and ridges in the stone.

skekTah kept glancing down each hall. He had to remind himself that while skekSil was the only one coming that they knew of, anyone could wander down this hall at any moment. He strained his ears for footsteps, the dragging of cloth, any audible indication that a Skeksis was coming toward them.

A finger caught in a crack. The Schemer removed it, sucking on the tiny cut near his talon, and eyed the crack. He traced it with his eyes from the floor up to the torch higher up the wall. He moved close, eyes narrowed. Fingers danced along the crack, finding a raised ridge. A long, narrow gap.

“skekLa! Over here!” he hissed.

The Illustrator limped over. Squeezing his fingers into the gap, he tugged and listened. Pebbles and dust fell, but nothing big. The wall was stable, safe to move.

“View it like a door, only you pull it to the side rather than out. Grab the edge like I am and pull,” skekTah instructed.

skekLa did as she was told and pulled, only to yelp and let go. Small cuts decorated her palms, thin and not deep. There were only a few small flecks of blood.

skekTah tore strips from one of his under-robes, something he’d done many times before in his life. Deteriorating robes made for good bandages. He wrapped the strips around her palms neatly, knotting them at the back so they wouldn’t impede her drawing.

“Two days and those cuts will be gone,” skekTah said. “Let’s hurry. The Chamberlain should be here soon.”

They pulled again, the stone section slowly sliding from its place. The wall seemed to creak ominously and the Schemer had to remind himself that that was normal. The castle constantly creaked and moaned with age. That did not mean it would collapse.

The grinding of the stone along the floor was loud in his ears yet he knew that nobody down the hall could hear it. It was a soft sound, like running water. White noise. Yet dread settled over him. If someone heard and investigated, they could be in trouble. Though nobody he knew would follow such a noise, perhaps a Skeksis that he did not know would.

The opening was wide enough. skekLa stepped away, watching in awe as the shorter Schemer slipped inside. She poked her head in and looked around at the narrow space between the dark stone she knew and the dulled crystal beneath.

“This is amazing. Were these always here?” she asked.

“They were probably formed from the weight of the stone being caked on top of the crystal,” skekTah shrugged. “So maybe shortly after we came to be in control of the castle. I found them not long after becoming the Schemer. That was over six hundred trine after my reality’s division.”

“Wow,” skekLa said. “It’s dark. How will you see?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not afraid of the dark,” skekTah replied, his night vision already tinting the world a bit green. “You should get back to your quarters. The Chamberlain should be here soon. I’ll wait here for you.”

Together, they pulled the section of wall closed. skekLa scanned over it, marking where exactly it was thanks to the torch overhead. Three torches down from the left of her room. Hearing her mate’s trademark whimper, she turned and hurried to her room to meet him there.

Lord skekTah would be fine. He would wait there for her. He could handle himself until she had finished her business with the Chamberlain.

Then she’d ask Lord skekTah more about these tunnels. They intrigued her so very much.

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah held his breath as the crack in the wall darkened. He dared not make a single noise. He scarcely dared to move.

The Chamberlain passed by, his whimper stabbing into the Schemer’s ears. skekSil did not pause in his journey. He continued forth with determination, not noticing the tiny crack in the wall to his right.

The light soon returned. A creak of a door, followed by the Illustrator’s frantic whispers. Then the door closed and both were gone.

skekTah dared to breathe again.

He hadn’t been so afraid of being caught in his tunnels in a long time. Paranoia from being in this reality for so long was taking its toll on him. A Skeksis like skekSil should not be so frightening to him, yet skekTah’s heart had been hammering enough to burst out of his chest. If the Chamberlain would’ve paused, surely he would’ve heard the sound.

skekTah shook his head. Foolish. skekSil was not frightening. He needed to regain control over himself. Yes, it was dangerous to be outside of the safety of skekLa’s quarters but he was in an even safer place—his precious tunnels. Nobody knew these were here!

…Was that a breeze?

The Schemer turned. It was faint, soft, but that was certainly a breeze. It lightly tousled his black locks. skekTah frowned, hunching in on himself.

The tunnels never had a breeze unless there was an opening. Somewhere along the left tunnel, there had to be an opening that was letting this breeze in. Did someone know of these tunnels? Or was there just a break in the wall somewhere?

skekTah frowned and gathered his wits. skekLa would be busy for a while. There was enough time to investigate the source of this breeze and get back before the Illustrator returned for him.

He followed the breeze, moving slowly and carefully so he did not make any sound. If there was a Skeksis ahead, he’d see them long before they saw him…unless they had night vision too. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Perhaps going to the tunnels was a bad idea.

There was light ahead. Just by its rough shape, he could tell that it was not one of his openings. No, it was a great crack in the wall. He breathed a sigh of relief. This was not Skeksis made. This was an old break in the wall, probably done under the stone’s natural weight.

As he drew nearer, he squinted. That was sunlight, not torchlight. Did this crack lead outside? There was greenery all around the edges of the break, leafy vines hanging over it from above. Yes, this was a very old crack. Unused too, based on scent. Nobody and nothing had used this as a tunnel.

skekTah reached out, poking a vine with a talon. It swung merrily in the breeze. All he could see was plants and stone beyond the crack. No Skeksis in sight. He dared to poke his head out, pushing the vines aside as he looked around.

It was a garden, that much he could tell. It was very well cared for, bursting with life and color. The castle loomed above them, blocking out part of the Great Sun’s light. He could hear water from fountains deeper in the garden.

skekTah dared to clamber out of the wide crack, making sure the vines hid it once more, and stepped along the stone path. He couldn’t help but admire the things he saw. They were beautiful.

skekSa’s garden had looked nothing like this at home. The Mariner’s garden had been a small thing, mostly shrubby plants with a little pond at the center where colorful fish were kept. skekSa had trouble making things grow but he’d been successful in keeping marine plants alive. Terrestrial ones, not so much, but he’d gotten a few flowers to bloom recently.

skekTah sighed sadly. Thinking of home hurt. Did anyone know he was gone? Did his alliance miss him? Had anything changed due to his absence?

The Schemer looked around. Was this all skekSa’s doing? Was there a skekSa in this reality? skekTah couldn’t recall seeing the regal Mariner among skekLa’s drawings…but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here. Clearly skekSa’s skills had bore better fruit here than back home.

He dared to wander deeper, looking around. Everything here was lush and green and completely alive. But there were things that made skekTah nervous.

Some of the plants looked entirely foreign to him. There weren’t just flowers and bushes. There were spiky things and plants that moved with a life of their own. One looked a lot like a leafy Podling. Another snapped spine-filled leaves at him like a set of jaws. One even blinked as if it had eyes.

skekTah rapidly began to backpedal. This couldn’t be skekSa’s work. skekSa would not grow things like this! He couldn’t! This was absolutely not skekSa’s garden!

The Schemer turned a corner…and promptly dashed back the way he came. There were Skeksis in the garden! Had he been seen?

…No, he had not. The duo was too interested in other things to notice that they had been seen. skekTah dared to peek around the corner to better see them.

Ah, he recognized these two. Skeksis from some of skekLa’s drawings. A pair that he did not know, that did not exist in his reality. The big one with the fluffed dark hair and the small one with its blonde hair pulled into a neat braid over one shoulder. skekTah did not know their names and did not care.

They were strangers. Strangers were dangerous here.

“They lhook beauhtiful, skekFher.”

“Thank you, Lord skekKel. I worked very hard on it. It’ll produce a very potent poison once it matures.”

“Iht doehsn’t lhook phoisonous.”

“Exactly. Looks are deceiving, are they not?”

skekTah decided it was best to leave now. This garden was dangerous. It was full of poisonous plants and other deadly things. It certainly wasn’t skekSa’s. He had to find that crack and get back to skekLa.

He turned, only to yelp when he struck a large pot. Something sharp seared into his left forearm. The pot hit the ground, smashing.

“What was that?”

skekTah bit his tongue and ran, leaping over the spiky plant and its shattered pot. Where was the crack? He needed to leave!

“Wait! Stop!”

“Cohme bahck here!”

Something huge was racing toward him. It would outpace him at this rate! It had to be the larger Skeksis. If it caught up to him…

He flung himself around the next corner, thankfully bare of pots of dangerous plants, and huddled down as low as he could. He threw his hands over his head and hunkered down as far as his back brace would allow. He made himself as small as possible and waited. He prayed his carapace, spiked and resembling a turtle’s shell, did not give his position away to his pursuer.

Something massive raced by, footsteps making the stone rumble. Behind it dashed the smaller Skeksis, calling out. Both quickly fell out of sight, running in the direction that skekTah had been going in before he’d ducked into this corner.

skekTah slowly uncurled, groaning from pain. His back and knees hurt from his position. His arm burned. Taking a quick look around, he sighed in relief. He was alone again.

He hissed when he saw his arm. Three fleshy spikes were imbedded into it, purple and red in color. His sleeve was torn and drenched in red. He was bleeding, leaving a spotty trail behind him.

He had to remove these and move. Eventually those Skeksis would double back and spot the trail. He couldn’t be found here.

skekTah reached out and touched a spike. It sent lances of intense pain through his left arm, racing down to his wrist and his fingers and then storming its way up to his shoulder. His eyes watered. These would be very painful to remove, this much he could predict.

 _Think of something more painful than this,_ he decided.

He began wracking his mind for such events. A few came to mind. His back breaking. A few nasty falls. A couple of scuffles with other Skeksis. That time he’d been jumped by Gelfling warriors.

_Claws tore into his hands, drawing blood instantly. The flesh had been torn, perhaps even muscle. These would certainly scar. The blood dripped thick and warm from the wounds, trickling down his long fingers to spatter onto his robes. A toothy beak jammed into his collar bone, teeth cutting into skin as the owner resisted the urge to scream._

skekTah tore the first spike out, frowning when a short spurt of blood followed it. He quickly tore the other two out. They bore spikes along their lengths, ripping the wounds wider as they were yanked out. He dropped the fleshy leaves to the ground and set out ripping away his torn sleeve.

Bandaging the burning wounds with the bloody strips of cloth, he rose and looked around. Still no sign of those Skeksis, though he could still hear them calling out in the distance. They would circle back here soon.

He would be long gone by then. skekTah spotted the crack not far from him. He moved to it, batting the vines away as he heaved himself inside.

He had to get to skekLa. He needed to lie down. He felt dizzy.

.o.o.o.o.

skekLa sighed in quiet relief as she watched her mate round the corner, vanishing from sight. Their meeting now adjourned, the Illustrator could safely retrieve the Schemer again.

She hoped he was okay. The meeting had been much shorter than usual but time could make it seem longer if one was sitting in the dark. Lord skekTah had said he was unafraid of the dark but that didn’t negate the fact that he’d have no sense of time in there.

As she headed down the hall toward the crack, she thought. She had never known of these tunnels. She had alluded to such a mystery to her mate but skekSil too did not seem to know anything about hidden passages within the castle. Perhaps they could be of use to her alliance.

But only after Lord skekTah was gone. It would be unfair to rob him of this secret. The tunnels were helpful in situations like these.

She knocked lightly on the stone. “Lord skekTah, the Chamberlain is gone. You can come out.”

She wedged her fingers carefully into the crack and tugged. The stone barely budged. She tugged again and then paused.

The Schemer did not speak. He didn’t move to help her with the sheet of rock.

Fear struck her. Had something happened to him?

With all the strength that her withered, aging body could produce, she pulled the sheet of rock aside a few inches and peered in. It was pitch black in there. How could skekTah not be afraid?

“Lord skekTah? Are you there?” she called tentatively.

There was no response. She pulled the torch down from the wall and used its light to see inside. The tunnel was empty.

“He’s gone?” she hissed in alarm. “No…”

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah groaned as he inched along, leaning heavily against the crystal wall of the tunnel.

His movements were growing sluggish. His arm felt like it was on fire, rapidly spreading to his hand and up to his shoulder. Every step took so much effort to make. His vision was growing blurry on the edges.

Was it getting hotter in here?

.o.o.o.o.

“Okay, think. Think! Where would this tunnel go?”

skekLa had managed to move the sheet of rock back into place, safely hiding the presence of the tunnel entrance. Now she limped about outside of it, hands in her hair, trying to think.

Lord skekTah was gone. Surely he wouldn’t go closer to her room, not with skekSil in there. So he would’ve gone further to the left following the wall.

The Illustrator prayed she was on the right track and followed the wall, left hand feeling for cracks or ridges. Maybe he had just moved further along to avoid being seen. Maybe he was exploring. Maybe he had been found by something.

 _He’ll be fine,_ she told herself. _Lord skekTah knows these tunnels. He knows so much about this castle. Surely he is okay._

skekLa stuck to the wall, moving down many corridors until she reached a familiar archway. Sunlight and greenery lit up this open-aired section of the castle grounds. The Illustrator hesitated, looking at the wall she had been following.

She was in skekFer the Gardener’s garden.

Would Lord skekTah have really come in here?

Going along the wall would be difficult with all the vines and plants. While many things here were beautiful, just as many of them were deadly. Poisonous, carnivorous, the list went on and on. It may not be wise to continue without seeking the Gardener for her help.

“skekLa!”

The Illustrator jumped, turning to see skekFer approaching her. The small Skeksis, fair of hair and dainty in appearance, looked absolutely frazzled. Behind her came skekKel the Counselor, looking rather cross yet concerned.

“Lord Counselor, Lady Gardener, hello,” skekLa greeted, hoping her smile didn’t look forced. “What is wrong? You look upset.”

“Someone crashed into one of my plants. I don’t know who it was but I need to find them right now,” skekFer explained.

“Why? What plant was it?” skekLa asked, now truly concerned.

“It was my Spiniferus lerouge, the one that matured last week that I started distilling poison from,” skekFer replied. “Someone crashed into it. There was blood, so I think someone managed to get stabbed with the leaves. I need to find who did this before the poison spreads! skekLa, have you seen anyone acting strange?”

“I haven’t seen anyone but skekSil today,” skekLa replied. “When was this?”

“Noht lhong agho,” skekKel replied. “They might’ve rhun bechause ohf uhs. Whe wehre ihn the gharden when iht happened.”

skekLa felt her heart freeze. If Lord skekTah came this way, he might’ve ended up in the garden. He would’ve fled if he spotted skekFer and skekKel. Could he have…?

“I didn’t see anyone, but I’ll ask around,” skekLa promised.

“Thank you. We’ll keep looking here in case they’re still hiding in the garden somewhere,” the Gardener said, turning to skekKel. “You’ll help me?”

“Ohf couhrse,” the Counselor nodded. “Whe’ll fihnd them.”

“Good luck. I’ll report back if I find anything,” skekLa promised, heading back the way she came.

Once she was away from the garden and out of earshot of her two allies, the Illustrator limped as quickly as she could back down the hall. She checked every crack, hissing for the Schemer. Reaching his initial entry point, skekLa clawed at the rock until it budged, pulled aside by her frantic hands.

“Lord skekTah! Are you okay?”

skekTah lay hunched on the ground where he’d originally hid, his breathing ragged. He looked pale. The sleeve on his left arm was ripped away just below the shoulder, bloody strips wrapped around his forearm. He looked horribly ill and weak, shaking.

skekLa helped him rise, though skekTah leaned heavily against her. It was good that he was smaller than her. It made it easier to move him back to her quarters. She settled him against the wall where he usually sat.

“Lord skekTah? Were you in the garden? Please answer me,” she begged.

“Garden? Uh…” The Schemer nodded, eyes unfocused. “Thought it…was skekSa’s…but…it wasn’t…”

skekLa felt her heart drop. It had been skekTah. He’d bumped into skekFer’s plant.

She gingerly grasped his left arm, flinching when he hissed. Unwinding the bandages, she bit back a gag of disgust and fear. Three deep puncture wounds pierced into the Schemer’s forearm. The skin around the wounds was an angry red and clearly irritated. There was a lot of blood.

skekLa gently covered the wounds and rose. “I’m going to get help. I’ll be right back, Lord skekTah. Please hold on.”

The Illustrator abandoned her chambers, locking the door behind her, and ran as fast as her injured thigh allowed straight to the garden. She shouted for the Gardener, heart hammering in her chest. If something was poisonous in skekFer’s garden, chances were high that it was lethal. But how lethal? And could it be cured?

“skekLa! Did you find who it was?” skekFer asked, having rushed to find the Illustrator when she heard the other shout.

“Yes! I need an antidote for him. Is there one?” skekLa nodded.

“Of course there is. It’s the first thing I did when that plant matured,” the Gardener confirmed. “Who was it?”

“skekFer, please! I just need the antidote,” skekLa begged.

skekFer paused, looking at skekKel. Both looked at her in confusion.

“skekLa, who was it?” the Gardener repeated.

“I can’t tell.”

“What dho yhou mhean yhou cahn’t tehll?” skekKel asked.

“I just can’t!” skekLa barked, bristling.

The Gardener frowned. “skekLa, whoever it is destroyed one of my prized plants. I deserve to know who did it.”

“I can’t! He’ll get mad! skekFer, please!” skekLa begged.

“It won’t matter because whoever it is will die without my antidote. Tell me who it is, skekLa. Please,” skekFer requested.

“He’ll…die?” the Illustrator choked.

_“If I die here, who knows what could happen. Your reality could be changed. My reality certainly will. Me being here is bad enough. Dying will only make it worse. So let’s do both of our realities a favor and not test that one. No one finds out I’m here. Understood, Illustrator?”_

skekLa hung her head. She had promised to keep quiet, to never mention Lord skekTah in the presence of others. Yet now, with him poisoned and skekFer unwilling to surrender the antidote…she had…no choice…

 _I’m so sorry, Lord skekTah._ “He’s in my quarters. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Is it someone we know? Why all the mystery, skekLa? This is their life we’re talking abo—”

“I know! I just… I promised,” skekLa choked, turning away.

“Illustrahtor?” skekKel questioned.

“Just come on,” skekLa muttered, leaving the garden.

The Illustrator led her allies back to her quarters. Unlocking her door, she paused. She turned back to the pair.

“You can’t tell anyone what you’re about to see. Please,” she requested, voice shaking.

“Is this something you’re not supposed to have?” skekFer asked.

“…I don’t even know. But nobody can know outside of us that he’s here. You have to promise me this,” skekLa said firmly.

“…It’s not a Gelfling, is it?” the Gardener guessed.

“It’s a Skeksis. Just…not one you’d know,” skekLa replied, opening her door and waving them inside.

skekTah was still huddled against the far wall. His breathing had become a rattling wheeze, like he couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs. The bandages were drenched red, leaving thin stripes along his robes. He had his beak buried in his knees, curled up tightly into himself. He almost looked like a turtle with his carapace.

skekLa might’ve called him cute if she wasn’t so scared.

“Who…is that?” skekFer asked.

“This is skekTah the Schemer. I’ll explain later,” skeka promised. “Just please help him, skekFer. It’s all my fault he went to your garden. I’m sure he didn’t mean to bump into your plant, honest! He was trying to hide, that’s all.”

“Wehll, he pihcked ah ghood plahce,” skekKel chuckled. “Jhust the wrohng plahnt.”

skekFer kneeled beside the shivering Schemer, whose eyes were hazy. The Gardener hissed when her hand touched his face. His skin was far too hot. He was feverish. She undid his bandaged arm to reveal the wounds.

“He’s already feverish. Three punctures, all very deep. How did he remove those leaves?” She scanned his other hand and found lesser cuts. “Those should be fine. It’s his arm that needs tending to.”

“Can you save him?” skekLa asked.

skekFer looked at her and nodded. “I’ll get the antidote right now. Lord skekKel, can you remove his carapace? His temperature is skyrocketing already, so getting as many of these robes off should help him cool down until the antidote can wipe out the poison.”

The Gardener swept out of the room to fetch the antidote. skekLa sighed, smiling. Lord skekTah would survive this.

“Oh! Lord Couselor, wait! Don’t do that!” she yelped.

skekKel paused, having grasped the Schemer’s carapace in preparation to remove it. “What?”

“Be careful! Lord skekTah has a back brace attached to the inside of his carapace,” skekLa explained.

“Ah bahck brahce?” The larger Skeksis looked at the carapace with concern. The turtle shell shape suddenly made sense. “How dho yhou remohve iht?”

“I don’t know. He can’t remove it himself and he never told me how,” skekLa admitted. “skekTek made it, if that helps.”

If skekTek made it, then there must be a quick and easy way to remove the carapace. skekKel let his hands wander along its edges. The spiked shape of it made this task difficult but the Counselor had done much more dangerous things. His fingers soon stumbled upon a pair of clamps close to the Schemer’s shoulder armor. Flipping these loosened the front of the carapace, letting the Counselor lift it slightly.

Peering into the wide gap, he spotted skekTek’s handiwork instantly. The underside of the carapace was built to line up directly with the Schemer’s spine. Bolted to skekTah’s back was a long network of thick gray material and black metal wire that formed the back brace that skekLa had mentioned. It was hooked to the underside of the carapace in two spots by hooks.

skekKel carefully wedged one hand into the gap and unhooked the first hook, then the second. The carapace was free, letting the Counselor carefully lifted it up and off of the Schemer. Setting it by the wall nearby, the Counselor backed up to better look at this strange Skeksis.

Without the carapace, skekKel was surprised to realize that skekTah was no bigger than his darling skekFer was. The carapace had made him look slightly bigger but in reality, they weren’t much different. skekTah was small and dainty, thin-limbed and short in height. Yet there was a rugged fierceness to him, some hidden potential to bring harm, though it was firmly disguised behind a tired expression.

Whoever this Schemer was, skekKel made note to keep a good eye on him until he knew the smaller Skeksis better.

“How lohng has he beehn here fohr?” skekKel asked.

skekLa carefully peeled off some of skekTah’s outer robes, flipping the Schemer’s carapace so that she could deposit the clothes into its inner shell. “Two weeks,” she admitted. “Remember when the crystal started crying for no reason? That was when he turned up.”

“How?”

“He said it was a minor conjunction,” skekLa replied. “I’m not entirely sure, but it hasn’t happened again. Lord skekTah is pretty sure that if he can predict when another minor conjunction is, that he can go back home.”

“Ahnd where ihs his home?” skekKel pressed.

“This castle, but in another reality. Heh. Neither of us completely understand it. Maybe we never will,” the Illustrator chuckled. “Some Skeksis here don’t exist in his world. Some Skeksis in his world don’t exist here. I bet skekTek would love hearing about this…but we can’t ask him.”

“He ihs ah strahnger,” skekKel agreed. “Couhld bhe dangherous.”

“That’s why I haven’t said anything. Even skekSil doesn’t know,” skekLa admitted. “I tried so hard to keep quiet about him…and then the one time he has to leave my room, he gets hurt!”

skekKel patted the smaller Skeksis’ shoulder consolingly. “Yhou didhn’t knhow, skekLah. How couhld yhou? This ihsn’t yhour fauhlt.”

“I’m back!” skekFer announced, stepping into the room and locking it behind her. “How is he?”

“Goht his carapahce ohff,” skekKel replied. “Ahnd sohme ohf his clothes. Ihs that ghood enough?”

“That’s good,” skekFer confirmed, uncorking a small glass bottle in her hands. “This will hurt a bit, but it will help. I promise.”

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah groaned. He drifted in and out of consciousness for what he could only guess was several hours. His arm burned, his head ached. Pain swallowed his world.

Voices echoed around him. skekLa mostly but there were others. He didn’t know them. Or did he? They blurred together into white noise in his head.

He thought he may have woken up once. skekMal was there, carrying him. Only…the Hunter looked strange. His scars were gone. Or maybe it was the angle that the Schemer was at. He didn’t get to ask, pain making him black out again.

He blinked and looked around. The world was a soft, misty place of pale grays and off-whites. skekHak was there, beckoning him over. skekTah smiled and approached him, only for the Machinist to crumble to dust. The Schemer shrieked, trying to catch him but it was fruitless.

“skekHak, wait! Don’t leave me!”

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah jolted, the world snapping into focus.

He was in a bed, laying on his front. Just by feel alone, he knew that he was severely underdressed. Someone had unclothed him, robbed him of his heavier robes and his carapace. He shivered from the chill, slowly rising onto his hands and knees.

“You’re awake.”

The Schemer shifted, looking to the side. The blonde Skeksis from the garden was there. It took him a moment to register this. Then he jumped, tail rattling violently as he scrambled backward. The other Skeksis, scarcely larger than himself, rose with their hands up in a peaceful gesture.

“Wait, wait! I’m not going to hurt you!”

skekTah paused. The voice sounded strange. Female. So skekLa was not the only predominantly female Skeksis in this reality’s court.

“Please be careful. You don’t have your carapace on and I don’t want you hurting your back. I don’t think your brace could handle the drop to the floor if you land on it.”

“How do you know about my back?!” skekTah hissed.

“Calm down,” she instructed gently. “I am skekFer the Gardener. You injured yourself on one of my plants and skekLa fetched me to heal you. How’s your arm?”

“She told someone about me?!”

skekFer frowned. “She had no choice. You would’ve died. That plant is highly poisonous and you were stabbed by three leaves. That’s double the required dose to kill a creature your size.”

skekTah paused, his anger temporarily forgotten. He shifted to sit back, checking over his left arm. His forearm was wrapped in clean bandages that carried a strange scent to them. He was tempted to tear away at them, to see the damage beneath, but decided against it. He turned to face the Gardener, steeling his nerves and throwing his fear aside.

“skekLa told you about me,” he repeated.

“Again, she needed to,” skekFer confirmed.

“What do you know about me?”

“That you are skekTah the Schemer, a Skeksis that came through the crystal from a world nearly identical to our own. You’ve been here for two weeks, hidden by skekLa for your own safety. Nobody but skekLa knew about you before you wandered into my garden.”

“I was hiding from skekSil and chanced upon your garden. I apologize for any damage I caused.”

“You killed a plant I had been cultivating for three months. You’re lucky I could recover the leaves and have more seeds stowed away for it,” skekFer hissed, teeth bared.

skekTah bristled in response. This female was no bigger than him. If it came down to it, even without his carapace, he was certain he could defeat her in a fight. After all, he had the advantage. What could a mere Gardener do against his deadly tail?

skekFer’s temper quickly fled, giving way to what could only be described as a serene smile. “But enough of that. Your arm. How is it?”

“…It doesn’t hurt much. What did you do to me?” skekTah asked warily.

“I applied an antidote to your wounds. Once the poison was eradicated, I used a poultice to help your wounds heal. They were rather deep punctures, so I used a lot to ensure I got it all,” skekFer replied.

“Is that what I’m smelling?”

“Yes,” the Gardener confirmed. “Though I have to thank skekLa and skekKel for getting your carapace off. Even with the antidote, your fever could’ve killed you if we didn’t get you undressed quickly. Though your back brace made things a bit difficult…”

“skekKel?”

“Yes, the Counselor. He was with me in the garden. From what I understand, we were likely the reason that you bumped into my plant to start with.”

skekTah shuddered. The image of that massive Skeksis in the garden had scared him then and it scared him now. To know that that big brute had been near him, had touched him, had removed his carapace! It terrified him. This skekKel had looked even bigger than skekUng…

“skekLa and skekKel should be back soon,” skekFer noted, turning to look out a nearby window. “You’ve been unconscious for just over four days. I was getting scared that you would never wake. skekLa has been worried sick. She cried for you.”

“…How many know I’m here?”

“Huh?” skekFer turned back to the Schemer.

“How many…know that I am here?” skekTah repeated slowly.

“…Just the three of us,” skekFer replied, fingers twining with the green fabric of her skirts. “I do not keep secrets from skekKel. skekLa knew this when she decided to tell us about you, so do not blame this on her. I can understand why you must hide but I will not permit you to be angry with skekLa for a mistake that you made!”

“She promised not to tell anyone about me! She failed to keep it!” skekTah snarled.

“So you would rather be dead right now? Should I have refused to heal you?” skekFer challenged.

skekTah paused before he could whip out another bitter response. He frowned, beak snapping shut. He turned away, conceding defeat.

“I thought not,” skekFer said softly.

They remained in an awkward silence for several minutes.

“You were crying.”

“Huh?” skekTah glanced at the Gardener, refusing to look her in the eye.

“While you slept, you cried. You were saying a name. skekHak?” skekFer offered.

skekTah did not respond.

skekFer sighed, looking away. “skekLa told us what she knew about your world. How she was not there, as you are not here. The allies you had that do not exist here. Was this skekHak one of them? I don’t recognize the name.”

“…He died a long time ago. That is all,” skekTah said coldly.

The door opened and skekTah tensed, only to hear the cheerful greeting of the Illustrator. He turned, ready to snap at her, scold her for letting others know of his existence. His beak quickly snapped shut again and he withdrew into himself. He wished he had his carapace suddenly.

The larger Skeksis, skekKel, was with the Illustrator.

skekFer promptly vacated her seat to greet him. The way they acted seemed very similar to the relationship that the Chamberlain and skekLa held. Was this common in this reality, this gooey affection? How many suffered from it here? Just these four? Everyone?

“Lord skekTah! You’re awake! Oh, thank goodness!” skekLa cried, spotting him. “I was so scared!”

The Schemer couldn’t stop himself from puffing up in anger. She… She… She had told on him! He’d strictly warned her against such an action, yet here were two more that knew of his existence! skekLa had clearly proven that she could not even keep a simple promise. He wanted to yell, scream, perhaps even lash out in rage.

Yet he dared not. skekFer’s warning resounded in his head. And the looming threat of her larger companion was a good ward for such behavior. No, he would need to get skekLa alone before he dared to indulge in such selfish actions.

He squawked when there was weight against him. His brace creaked ominously as arms wrapped around him. He was caught in some tight embrace. It was warm yet terrifying.

“I was so scared,” skekLa’s voice came from so impossibly close.

skekTah paused, arresting his primary urge to struggle. Now he understood what was going on. While he’d been mulling over how to best scold skekLa, the Illustrator had scrambled atop the bed and embraced him. It was a rather tight hug yet he could feel her shaking. The perks of not having his heavy layers to rebuff such sensations.

“I thought you were going to die. You wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did. I’m so sorry, Lord skekTah, truly I am,” skekLa choked.

Was she…crying?

Yes, yes she was. He could feel the tears on his shoulder through his thin under-robes. skekLa was crying…because of him.

_“skekLa knew this when she decided to tell us about you, so do not blame this on her. I can understand why you must hide but I will not permit you to be angry with skekLa for a mistake that you made!”_

_“She had no choice. You would’ve died.”_

_“skekLa has been worried sick. She cried for you.”_

skekTah frowned, eyes on the bedspread. skekFer’s words echoed cruelly in his head, dissolving his anger. Guilt swallowed him instead.

skekLa had done everything possible to keep him alive and safe in this reality. She had hid him and fed him. She helped him entertain himself. She shared her quarters with him. When he was hurt, she had tended to his wounds.

And now, she had saved his life. How could he be so ungrateful as to be angry with her? This event, unplanned and reckless, may have cost him his self-entitled sense of protection…but he was not dead.

“It’s not your fault.”

skekLa sniffled. “Huh?”

Should he hug her back? Was that proper? Hugs were a rare thing back home. He could only name a few instances and each had been extremely personal and brief. All had been among allies, never anyone else.

He decided to refrain for now, at least until he knew his boundaries. He would not make such a mistake at a critical moment like this one.

“It’s not your fault,” skekTah repeated, beak dipped over her shoulder, eyes closing. “I wandered from where you left me. I ended up in the garden. I bumped into the plant. I did everything wrong, not you. You… You did what you saw as best for me and I… I appreciate this greatly, though it may be hard to express in anything but words.”

“Lord skekTah…”

“I just… I saw the garden and let my mind get away. I forgot where I was. I had…thought perhaps skekSa was here. But…I was wrong. And I paid the price for it,” the Schemer explained dully. “You should be angry with me, Illustrator. I have no right to be angry with you.”

“…But I broke my word,” skekLa admitted, pulling away from him to wipe her eyes of tears. “I told Lord skekKel and Lady skekFer about you.”

“It was…necessary, though I wish it hadn’t been. It’s too late now. They know and, since I am not dead, I can only assume that they have kept this to themselves too.”

“skekLah whent tho ah loht ohf trouhble tho kheep yhou hidden,” skekKel stated. “Tho betrahy that whould tarnish myh honor.”

“There would be little to gain from throwing you before the rest of our court, skekTah. At best, we’d merely get rid of an extra Skeksis. At worst, there could be consequences down the road that we cannot possibly see right now,” skekFer said, wringing her hands. “Besides, you haven’t hurt anyone since you came here. And skekLa has told us what she knows about you. You don’t sound like a terrible person.”

 _If only you knew,_ skekTah thought bitterly. “I have nothing to gain from meddling here. I just want to return home as quickly as possible.”

“As long as you don’t cause trouble, I see no reason to out you,” the Gardener agreed. “Besides, skekLa seems rather fond of you. I will not hurt my friend…but if you hurt her…”

“I wouldn’t dare,” skekTah replied, head lowered. “skekLa has kept me alive this long. Betraying her now would tarnish my own honor.” _And I doubt I could forgive myself for such a thing…_

“That stihll lheaves ah quehstion,” skekKel cut in. “How dihd yhou geht intho skekFher’s gardhen?”

skekTah sighed, looking at skekLa. The Illustrator wrung her hands and smiling nervously. At least she had kept one thing a secret. Sadly, he’d have to break this one himself.

“I think it’d be better if I showed you,” skekTah muttered. “But first, my clothes. I’m not going into the tunnels in this. At least return my heavier robes to me.”

.o.o.o.o.

“I wondered where this led to!” skekFer poked her head between the vines, looking around in the large crack. “I knew this was here but I just thought it was a hole in the wall. I never knew it branched into tunnels.”

“I felt the breeze. That’s why I wandered here,” skekTah admitted.

“It’s so narrow. Lord skekKel, you could never fit in this gap!” the Gardener teased.

“Ih couhld noht,” the Counselor agreed, peering into the dark. “Ih couhldn’t seeh ihn there either.”

“skekTah can move through it just fine. He’s not scared of the dark,” skekLa recalled.

“Well, I’m sorry that my garden wasn’t what you thought it was,” skekFer said, stepping away from the crack to let the vines hang over it again.

“I’m sorry for killing your plant. I think I’ll avoid this place from now on,” the Schemer admitted.

“Oh! You don’t need to! Just be careful when you’re here,” skekFer stressed.

“I think I prefer skekSa’s droopy marine plants. The worst thing I had to worry about in his garden was the thorns on the roses,” skekTah recalled, eyeing the plant life around him warily.

“Maybe I need to change that one day. But for now, take good care of your arm, if you could,” skekFer requested.

“Sorry for dragging you both into this,” skekLa apologized.

“Iht ihs nho bother, skekLah,” skekKel reassured. “Whe ahre ahllies, ahre whe nhot? Whe help each other ouht.”

“Thanks, Lord Counselor,” skekLa smiled. “Thank you both.”

“Be careful this time, Schemer. Stay away from my Spiniferus lerouge, okay?” skekFer teased.

“You couldn’t pay me enough gold to get near that plant again,” skekTah grumbled, bristling bitterly.

They bid one another adieu and parted ways. skekKel and skekFer disappeared into the garden. skekLa headed down the hall to her room. skekTah met her there through his tunnel, carefully moving the rock sheet. They both returned to her quarters safely.

“So…are you mad?”

“A little…but as I said, I have no right to be. You did it to save my life. To punish you for it, regardless of my opinion, would be wrong,” skekTah replied, fetching his carapace and the rest of his robes.

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re okay,” skekLa said with a smile.

“Good,” the Schemer muttered. “Now…help me get my carapace on? I can’t do it myself.”

The Illustrator laughed before rising to help him. She was truly happy that the Schemer was safe and alive. He made for such entertaining, if dour, company!


	3. skekLa: Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea just wouldn't leave. It's one of the (insert number here)-times-(insert characters here)-(insert event here)-and-one-time-they-did-not things.
> 
> I decided to do it on the various scars skekLa and skekTah had. And they have a lot, and not just physical ones...
> 
> I actually might do a side piece regarding that last bit with the stars. Got a silly but brief thing in mind for Schosi and skekHak.
> 
> skekLa belongs to SkekLa, skekFer belongs to FeruFeru, skekKel belongs to SkekKel, and Schosi belongs to DarthSchosi. They're all on DA and all are awesome, so go check them out!

Every scar carries a story. Some tale of brave battle or a minor scuffle. Be it embarrassing or impressive, it does not negate the origin of such marks.

To tell these stories show trust or pride. What these are, you decide.

.o.o.o.o.

“Why do you limp, anyways?”

“H-huh?” skekLa yelped, nearly dropping her books.

She hadn’t heard the Schemer awaken or rise from his corner. The Illustrator had been so certain that she had been silent so as not to awaken him, yet awake he now was. She dug back through her actions, trying to discern what she may have done to wake him up.

“skekLa?”

“Huh? Yes, Lord skekTah?” she asked, dismissing the thoughts. It was too late to lament at this minor failure.

“I asked you a question.”

“You did?”

“I did. Why do you limp?”

“O-oh… That…”

skekLa put the books down and shuffled awkwardly, her skirts shifting to cover her feet. Lord skekTah had never mentioned her limp before, so she had safely assumed that he either did not notice or did not care. Yet now, three weeks into his stay, he brought it up.

Then again, maybe she should’ve expected this. After all, her limp was rather obvious. Her lagging step, her hunching shuffle, made it very clear that her walking style was being interrupted. The observant Schemer had probably seen it from the start but had not thought about it until now.

But why?

“Why do you ask, Lord skekTah?” skekLa questioned, skimming over a few illustrations that now required color.

“Curiosity,” skekTah replied. “You don’t need to answer if you don’t wish to.”

“…No, it’s fine. I just…” skekLa sighed, turning to face him. “It’s an old injury. I got it during the division.”

“The division?” skekTah asked, interest piqued.

“I got in the Emperor’s way, just before everyone gained sense. He struck me on my thigh. We didn’t have robes or anything, so I had no defense,” the Illustrator explained, a hand resting atop the thigh in question. “It never fully healed. I’ve been limping ever since.”

“It’s gotten worse with age, no doubt,” skekTah guessed.

“Well, I can’t really run anymore. But I used to be able to. Now…”

skekTah sighed, looking away. Then he shifted, trying to reach behind his shoulders. He fumbled for a moment before skekLa questioned him.

“Help me get my carapace off, if you could,” he requested.

She quickly found the clamps beneath his shoulder armor, popping them open and lifting his carapace. skekTah had taught her how to do it now. Though thick, the carapace was lightweight. It was unhooking the back brace that was troublesome but skekLa’s nimble hands made short work of the hooks. Once the carapace was removed, the robes were carefully peeled from his shoulders to hang at his waist. The Schemer then turned his back to her.

“Lord skekTah?”

“See anything interesting?” skekTah asked.

“Well…” skekLa moved closer, scanning over the expanse of his bony back. “Obviously, your back brace, Lord skekTah.”

“Besides my back brace.”

“Hmmmmm.”

skekLa squinted, scanning over the gray skin. She could see his ribs and shoulder bones clearly accented through his sagging flesh, the obvious signs of old age. The back brace, a long thing made of two lengths of light gray material lined with black metal wire and ending in triangular parts, all bolted to his back in a manner that tugged uncomfortably at skekTah’s loose skin, covered up the entirely of his spine. It was difficult to see around it.

“Lord skekTah, what am I look…ing…for…?”

Her words died as her blue eyes alit on something. She moved to her left, letting the light cover the expanse of her guest’s back. No longer needing to squint, she felt silly. It was so obvious now what she had been tasked to find.

To the back brace’s left, cutting across his back at a downward angle from his left shoulder blade toward his right ribs, crossing under the back brace in their journey, were a set of scars, bright white against his ashy flesh. Three were long and looked to have been deep before they healed. The fourth, likely made by a thumb claw, cut down the length of his spine and was barely visible between the gaps in the back brace.

“Oh, Lord skekTah! What—”

“These are my scars from the division.”

skekLa froze, Her talons, moving with a life of their own, lightly traced what she could touch of the scars. Like her own, they looked warped and ancient from so many hundred trine. These had not fully healed either.

“I don’t know who gave them to me,” skekTah admitted. “It was not skekHak and I doubt it was the Emperor. skekYi was already dead by then, so everyone else is a possible suspect. Even my own allies could’ve done this.”

“You don’t know?” skekLa asked, confused.

“skekHak was knocked unconscious. skekYi had combusted into flame and ash in front of me. I panicked, screamed…and that set the rest off. They attacked the urRu without a second thought. Someone must’ve struck urTao, my counterpart. skekTek recognized that we were connected and stopped us. Then the Emperor cracked the crystal and the urRu left after that. skekTek fixed our wounds…but he didn’t have any of the medicines and treatments that he does now, so most of the scars that we received that day never really healed correctly.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” skekTah asked, carefully pulling his robes back up over his shoulders and back. “You didn’t cause these. I don’t know who did. Not sure I care either. It’s too late to complain about it now.”

“But don’t you wonder?” skekLa asked, helping him put his carapace on.

“At times, yes,” the Schemer admitted. “But it could change my opinion on someone in the court. I don’t want it to be anyone in my alliance. So perhaps ignorance is bliss, in this case. Putting a name and face to that invisible pain won’t take it away. Those are scars I will bear forever, skekLa.”

skekLa stepped back, wringing her hands. Seeing those scars made her feel less pain in her own, if only in her mind. She and the Schemer bore much in common in terms of history…yet they were so impossibly different.

skekTah turned his beak to the small window. Sunlight poured in, bright and warm.

“It’s approaching past noon. You’d best leave for the noon meal, skekLa, before the Chamberlain comes to fetch you,” he advised.

“Oh! Right,” skekLa nodded, quickly arranging her worktables so that she could jump straight to coloring when she returned.

skekTah headed back to his corner, slowly sinking down to sit back against the wall. It puzzled the Illustrator. She had told him more than once that he could sit at the table or on her bed, yet he persistently went to the floor each time. Surely it was uncomfortable to get in and out of such a position, especially with the Schemer’s back the way it was. Yet skekTah never complained of the effort.

A soft knock at the door warned of a slave, likely sent by the Gourmand to summon everyone for the meal. skekLa sent it away and moved out into the hall. She paused, turning to look back at the Schemer.

“Lord skekTah?”

“Nnn?” skekTah looked up at her. “What?”

“…Thank you. For telling me about your scars.” She smiled.

skekTah blinked, confused. “…No problem. Now get going.”

So skekLa did.

.o.o.o.o.

“You’re getting much better, Lord skekTah! I told you that you could do it!”

skekTah couldn’t help it. His face flushed in embarrassment. skekLa was stooped over him, admiring the sketch he had done. The Schemer decided to practice copying a drawing on skekLa’s wall, choosing the Chamberlain because of his simplistic robes and shapes. Apparently drawing rough shapes before adding detail was a good way to get the drawing to look right.

And it certainly looked right. Unlike his first attempt, one could actually identify the Skeksis being depicted.

skekLa smiled, making that strange cooing sound she was prone to making in fits of happiness. “Oh, Lord skekTah! I’ll make an artist of you yet!”

“Heh… I think you indeed are,” the Schemer admitted, a small smile worming onto his beak.

Apparently art wasn’t just used as an item of luxury or entertainment. From what the Illustrator told him, such works could also be used in the art of blackmail. More than once, skekLa’s quick hands and eyes had captured a scene that the Chamberlain would use against the victim for various means. skekTah, finding this interesting and useful, had immediately began practicing more. How useful such a skill could be in conjunction with his already deadly words.

He paused, shaking out his right hand. His fingers had begun to ache. Holding his pencil for too long tended to do that to his old hands. He sat up, deciding to be done for today.

Hands caught his right one, stopping their movement. He jolted for a moment before realizing it was just skekLa. An apology crossed his tongue. He had probably almost knocked something over again. He really should watch where he shook his hands.

The apology barely started leaving his beak when it was abruptly swallowed, replaced by a sharp hiss. Talons were crossing the back of his right hand. Not just any spot on his right hand either.

“Where did you get these?”

skekLa’s voice sounded so small. skekTah turned to look at her. Her eyes were huge, following her talons as they traced the sharp white lines that cut across the back of his hand. There was fear and sadness in those eyes, along with desperation to know.

“A punishment,” skekTah replied.

skekLa withdrew, clutching her own hand close. The one with the metal talon. The Schemer recognized the Scientist’s handiwork anywhere.

“What did you do to deserve such scars?” skekLa asked, bristling.

“…It was not a punishment for me,” skekTah corrected. “I gained these while giving mercy to an ally who was receiving a punishment.”

“Do you have them on both hands?”

skekTah lifted his left and held both hands out, backs facing her. Each bore three long white scars along the backs with a shorter fourth one cutting between his index and thumb, curling around to his palm. skekLa puffed, a half-sob escaping her.

“I received these willingly, to protect the pride of my ally,” skekTah replied, lowering his hands. He eyed her finger critically. “I’m guessing yours was an intentional punishment.”

“…I refused to punish a Podling that was working too slowly,” the Illustrator replied, glancing at her metal-encased finger. “So the Emperor had skekNa crush my finger. I could not draw, so I had skekTek fix it.”

“I’m guessing it’s permanently attached?”

“Yes. It’s screwed to my finger.”

“As my brace is bolted to my back.” skekTah chuckled darkly. “It seems the Scientist likes to make his fixes as permanent as possible.”

“…Why did you do what you did? To get the scars, I mean,” skekLa asked.

“…Why did you do what you did to get your finger crushed?”

skekLa looked away.

skekTah sighed. What a strange Skeksis, skekLa was. Happy, supportive, loyal, and merciful. Nobody he knew would spare a Podling from punishment.

…Perhaps that didn’t mean it was wrong.

.o.o.o.o.

“Did you always have that?”

skekLa turned to look at the Schemer in confusion. “Have what?”

“On your eyebrow. That scar,” skekTah asked, leaning nearer with squinted eyes. “I don’t believe I ever noticed it until now.”

“Well, most don’t,” skekLa admitted, eyeing the floor evasively. “They pay attention to my art, not me. I doubt most even know it’s there.”

“What happened?” skekTah asked.

“Um…” skekLa blushed, looking away. “Well…it’s embarrassing…”

“Tell me this and I’ll tell you something embarrassing about myself,” the Schemer offered.

“…Really, Lord skekTah?”

“I promise,” skekTah said.

“…Well…I saw skekUng and skekSil arguing…and decided that I would help skekSil out against him,” skekLa began, looking toward the ceiling as she collected her thoughts. “I pounced on skekUng from behind in the hopes that I could drive him off…and…”

“It failed?”

“…Pretty much…” skekLa nodded.

“So skekUng gave you that?” skekTah asked, indicating her eyebrow scar.

“…Him and skekSil did,” the Illustrator admitted.

“…I feel I’m missing part of this story,” skekTah pointed out, not quite understanding what he’d heard.

Would skekSil, who had shown great care and loyalty toward the Illustrator, actually have the gall to strike her?

“When I hit skekUng, I didn’t drive him away. I shoved him forward…into skekSil…and made them…”

“Well, obviously, they didn’t kill each other,” skekTah guessed.

“…Replace those L’s with S’s…”

skekTah thought before he stiffened, eyes widening. He looked up at skekLa, who smiled nervously. He suddenly understood.

“…Oh…”

“Yeah…” skekLa looked away sheepishly. “They both struck me after that. I got knocked out and woke up in skekTek’s lab. They never told anyone why I was bleeding…and I never mentioned what I made them do…”

“Oh, the irony,” skekTah muttered, a hand on his face. “I was about to tell a similar story.”

“…You made skekUng and skekSil kiss too?” skekLa asked, jaw dropping.

“…Switch the roles around and you’ll have my story,” skekTah admitted, a blush crossing his cheeks.

“Tell me?” skekLa begged.

“Well, I promised, so…” The Schemer groaned, clearly uncomfortable. He forged on, though. “After we completed our pact with the Gelfling, we held a celebration in the castle. The Chamberlain was taunting skekUng because he refused to dance. I was eavesdropping and…ended up being forced to dance with skekUng. When we were finished, skekSil apparently wanted to see a repeat performance and shoved me into him…and we…”

“…Yes?” skekLa asked, far too curious for skekTah’s liking.

“…I ended up kissing skekUng, though you can hardly call it a kiss! The tip of my beak got jammed between his front teeth. I couldn’t back out and he was too shocked to let go until skekSil teased us about it!” skekTah barked, embarrassed, cheeks blazing. “Then skekUng let me go and chased the Chamberlain around for a while before he was stopped.”

“You…kissed the…”

“It was not a kiss! And it certainly wasn’t willing!” the Schemer huffed, arms crossed in defiance. “Be glad. I’ve never told anyone that since it happened. I haven’t dared to.”

skekLa couldn’t stop herself. She laughed. At least she hadn’t kissing the volatile Garthim Master!

skekTah growled, glaring at the floor. She struggled to stop, feeling bad for laughing. She wiped her eyes, trying to get herself under control.

“Oh m-my, L-Lord skekTa-hah! Wh-hah-t bad luck!”

“Bad luck indeed,” skekTah replied curtly. “Let us change the subject. I thought I saw quite the provocative drawing of the Chamberlain stored in a drawer under your bed. Mind explaining?”

skekLa’s laughs died. skekTah’s had only just begun.

.o.o.o.o.

“So…um…”

“Spit it out,” skekTah requested, looking over at her. “You’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes.”

“Well, um… Don’t take this as rude…and if I’m intruding, please tell me off…but…” skekLa wrung her hands nervously. “That back brace… How did it happen?”

“…skekTek made it, though I doubt that’s what you meant,” the Schemer replied. “I fell.”

“…Fell?”

“Yes, I fell. That’s how I broke my back.”

“…From some stairs? Another floor?”

“A tree. A very tall tree. Nearly eighty feet, if I recall.”

“Eighty feet?!” skekLa bristled in shock and terror. “How are you not dead?!”

“Honestly, I have no clue,” skekTah replied. “But I did survive. My back had broken but my spine, miraculously, remained intact.”

“Why were you in a tree?” skekLa asked.

“I was fetching an arrow for the Hunter. He’s the reason that I got back to the castle and am still alive right now,” the Schemer replied. “Without him, I would likely be dead… Though, without him, my back might not have been broken at all. Curious thought, that one. Oh well, too late to complain now. Either way, skekTek put together this brace in two hours and I lived. Took three months to heal and I spent the rest of the trine relearning to walk and move without much pain.”

The Illustrator shuffled, looking half-scared and half-sympathetic. It was surprising to the Schemer. Nobody but his alliance had shown him sympathy when his back had broken. Nobody else in the court, aside from the panicked Scientist, had cared much for what had occurred to him. “It was his own fault,” they would all say, in and out of earshot of him. It was rather annoying…and depressing, to be honest.

“It doesn’t hurt much now,” skekTah continued, eyes sliding closed as he rested against the wall. “I cannot afford to sleep on my back anymore. I cannot stand up very straight now. Twisting around quickly is difficult. If I’m knocked over, I cannot get up as quickly. It has caused me many issues…but I’ve adapted to it. I had no choice.”

skekLa turned away, scrubbing tears from her eyes. Such an emotional creature, this Skeksis. It was rather frightening to the Schemer. It was almost as if she was meant to be a Gelfling, not a Skeksis.

Still, he felt compelled to comfort her. “Don’t cry, skekLa. It’s an old injury. Tears won’t fix it.”

“But I feel so bad! You’ve gotten hurt so much back home!” skekLa choked, eyes shiny with tears.

“And so have you,” the Schemer pointed out. “We all bare our fair share of scars—physical, mental, or emotional. Whether we share them is at our discretion. We’ve shared with one another. Let us both be stronger for it, as skekVar would say.”

“…Did he say that whole thing?”

“That whole thing,” skekTah confirmed. “His words, not mine. I just quote them. They are good words, words for the heart.”

skekLa smiled, wiping the last of her tears. “I’ll remember them.”

skekTah smiled back, relieved. “We both shall.”

.o.o.o.o.

The night sky twinkled with a million stars scattered across a pitch black canvas. In the open space of the garden, one could see the night sky perfectly. It was as if someone had cut out a chunk of it and hung it over them like a blanket.

That was how skekTah felt as he and the Illustrator stood together in the dark, stargazing.

skekFer and skekKel had been with them up until a bit ago. The Gardener had grown tired and the ever-vigilant, if still very terrifying, in skekTah’s opinion, Counselor had ushered her away to bed. skekTah was certain that the other would not rejoin them.

Which left him alone with the Illustrator. Not that skekTah minded. He had come to greatly enjoy skekLa’s company. Though the Schemer wouldn’t surprised if she lured the Chamberlain out here to stargaze with her once he had retired for bed. It was a truly beautiful night out tonight.

skekTah smiled, spotting a familiar cluster of stars overhead. He liked to pretend that there were lines between the stars and make pictures with them. Arcing high above him, in the sky’s jet black and the imaginary tones of brown and orange and gold that his mind conjured, was the Machinist. Or the cluster of stars that skekTah had dubbed The Machinist.

“Why are you smiling so big for, Lord skekTah?” skekLa teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“Oh, just found something familiar,” skekTah replied, pointing to the image he’d crafted in his head. “See that cluster of stars there? Pretend there are lines between them. Does it not look like a Skeksis to you?”

“Hmmmm. Ah! Yes, I see it!” skekLa cried. “Is that in your reality, Lord skekTah?”

“It is,” skekTah nodded. “I call it The Machinist. It looks very much like him to me.”

“You’ve spoken of him before. He died, didn’t he?” skekLa asked, being careful. This was a touchy subject. That much she knew.

skekTah sighed sadly, beak lowering to point at the ground. “He did…”

skekLa frowned before staring at the sky, trying to paint lines between the stars. skekTah had made something. Maybe she could too. She concentrated, avoiding the stars that made up The Machinist…and gasped when an image bloomed in her mind.

“What is it? skekLa?” skekTah asked, interested in the shocked expression on her face.

“Schosi!”

“…Schosi?” The Schemer blinked in confusion. He’d never heard that name before. “skekLa, are yo—”

skekTah bristled instantly in alarm. Tears were falling from the Illustrator’s eyes, painting wet trails down her cheeks. She sobbed thickly, burrowing her face into her sleeves, shoulders heaving with her sobs.

For in the stars above her, next to The Machinist, the stars formed the image of a spritely young Gelfling girl. Her assistant, strangled during the culling. Schosi.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and skekLa huddled against the smaller Skeksis beside her. She tried to choke out apologies but they became too muddled on her tongue to form proper words. The Schemer shushed her, stroking her hair and holding her in what he hoped was a placating manner.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was wrong.

This Schosi, whoever they were, was someone that skekLa had likely lost in the past. Like his dear friend skekHak, Schosi had painted themself among the stars. skekLa just hadn’t seen it until today.

“I… I…”

“It’s okay. I understand. You don’t need to explain, skekLa.”

He was grateful that it was so dark out here in the garden. skekTah could do nothing but let his own tears fall amidst silent sniffs.

High above them in the night sky, he was certain he saw skekHak reach out to whoever Schosi was, both of them watching over the two Skeksis far below.


	4. Schosi: Watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A side-story to Scars starring our fallen ones. RIP skekHak and Schosi...
> 
> skekLa belongs to SkekLa and Schosi belongs to DarthSchosi over on deviantART. Check them out, they're awesome people!

She was a skittish one, this Gelfling. Ironic considering what she had once served. Not that he blamed her, considering the circumstances of her death.

Death had a way of opening doors to others, of answering questions that you never asked aloud.

skekHak turned to look down at the two Skeksis in the garden far below. skekTah, his dear friend, and skekLa, the Gelfling’s master. They held one another, stifling their grief with tears and embraces.

The Machinist had been among the stars in this plane beyond life for what felt like an eternity. Though the skies here were identical, the feeling was different. He knew this was not the Thra that he had come to recognize. But it was the one the Schemer was in now, so he had followed.

There were other Skeksis among these stars. Many looked familiar but none of them knew him. None spoke or interacted with him. skekHak decided to leave their bitter, broken spirits alone. He faithfully held vigil over his friend from the cluster of stars he’d swept together shortly after his death.

His vigil was not a lonely one. There was another spirit, small and broken, that also watched this castle. A young Gelfling girl with fair hair and the hints of a smile on her face. Her name was Schosi, he recalled.

Death had let him know all of this.

Just as pain faintly rang through his body, reminding him of what had killed him, skekHak could faintly spot bruises, deep and dark, covering the Gelfling’s neck. She had been strangled during the culling of the Gelfling within this Crystal Castle. He knew it as clearly as he knew his own death.

It was sickening. This was knowledge he should not be privy to, but death knew no boundary. There was no privacy here.

He focused on his dear friend far below. It hurt to see skekTah cry. In the 300 trine he had known the Schemer and the 1000 trine before that he’d known TahTao, it had always hurt to see him sad. Worse, it was because of skekHak. And there was nothing the Machinist could do for him.

skekTah was far beyond his reach, just as skekLa was far beyond Schosi’s.

“Do you…”

skekHak shifted, glancing at the Gelfling. There were tears shining anew on her face.

“Do you think…that they’re okay?” she choked.

The Machinist frowned. “skekTah is strong. He has survived so far. And skekLa appears determined, if weak. They’ll be fine.”

“And what if they’re not?”

“There’s nothing we can do, Gelfling. We’re dead.”

Schosi shuddered at that. “I know…but…I…”

“There’s nothing we can do,” skekHak repeated. “We’re just observers now, Schosi.”

Schosi sighed, fingers knotting in her skirts. She clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

skekHak sighed, looking away. He had never been satisfied with it either, but it was all he really had to say.

It was the truth. They were dead. There was nothing they could do now but watch.

“How did you do that?”

skekHak looked at the Gelfling again. “Do what?” he asked.

“With the stars.” Schosi indicated the cluster of glittering stars before them. “How did you make them into a picture?”

“I made lines. Watch.”

skekHak extended one long finger and began to draw. Silvery lines of wispy brilliance erupted wherever his talon went, dancing from one star to another. Schosi watched in awe, eyes shining as the blocky image of a Skeksis appeared before her. skekHak withdrew his claw when he was done.

“Like that,” he stated.

“How can I do it?” Schosi asked.

“You already have your stars. skekLa has seen your image. Now you must draw it,” skekHak instructed.

“Draw it?”

Schosi looked at the stars before her. Her master had been the artist. Schosi had never really drawn before. She had ground up the plants and sediments that made up the rich dyes and inks that made skekLa’s illustrations more beautiful. Drawing wasn’t something she had really done much of before.

She reached out to the topmost star before her that she could reach. It felt cool to the touch, not white hot as she had expected. The Gelfling scanned the surrounding stars, trying to put together a good image.

What would she look like in the night sky? What had her master seen that made her cry so much?

Schosi’s fingers began to move, slow and thoughtful. She drew wispy silver lines between stars, slowly etching herself into the fabric of the night. skekHak watched without comment, for such a thing was unnecessary. This task was Schosi’s alone to perform. He was merely a spectator, as he had been for many hundreds of trine now.

An image began to grow of a delicate Gelfling girl, as blocky as the Skeksis beside her was. Dainty posture, innocent visage, and a nonthreatening pose made the perfect image of Schosi. She smiled, only the left arm left to do.

She paused, glancing warily at the massive Skeksis beside her.

She knew of this creature, though she had never known or met him before. skekHak the Machinist, who died of old age and had remained unknown to all creatures but his own kind. A Skeksis not from her world but from another that ran parallel to it. One who had been close friends with the small Skeksis, skekTah the Schemer, that now comforted her master in the garden far below.

skekHak watched her but made no move or threatening gesture. He was passive. There was nothing to gain by threat or intimidation. There was nothing but this emptiness beyond death.

Besides, he’d never held hatred for Gelfling. He hadn’t lived long enough to learn how to properly detest the smaller creatures of Thra. And now that he was dead, hate would no longer hold a place in him. It was too late for it to take root.

Schosi felt brave and continued, drawing her left arm to extend toward the glittering image of the Skeksis. skekHak raised an eyebrow in curiosity. She looked at him and smiled.

“Can we watch over them together?”

skekHak blinked before smiling. He approached, extending a talon. It wasn’t hard to shift a few of his stars around, extending his image’s right hand. Stars twined in a parody of a gesture that the Machinist had never contemplated engaging in with a Gelfling.

He stepped back and chuckled. Down below, he noted that skekTah had looked up. The Schemer’s golden eyes saw the altered image. skekHak felt pride.

He extended his right hand out to Schosi. “I don’t see why not. After all, what else is there to do up here but observe?”

Schosi smiled, her tiny hand grasping his larger one.

They both watched over their loved ones…together. Neither felt shame.


	5. skekLa, skekKel, and skekFer: Wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired a bit by SkekLa’s fanfic The Cracking, which can be found over on her deviantART page. It’s an amazing piece, so go read it!

“You wandered these all by yourself at home, Lord skekTah?” skekLa asked, shuddering.

The catacombs spread out like an endless maze of featureless corridors and earthly debris beneath the castle. Torches had been put up in most of the tunnels by skekUng or skekNa, who frequented these with slaves and Garthim. Beyond those, only small pests lived here. Most rarely went too deep ino these old tunnels for fear of being eternally lost.

“I wandered the catacombs back home alone,” skekTah corrected, a torch in his hand as he looked down dark tunnels. “These…are in much worse state than ours. Then again, we had to keep these in good condition for skekHak before he…”

“He lived down here?” skekLa asked, staying close to avoid being plunged into darkness.

“He did, though where in this world, I have no clue. His stairs and hall aren’t here, so I don’t know exactly where he may have been in comparison to this place.”

He turned, lowering the torch to let his night vision kick in. Green walls dripped with some inner moisture from the coldness down here. Stalactites and stalagmites had formed in some places where no creature had dwelled in hundreds of trine. It was so vastly different from the tunnels at home, which had fallen into disrepair after the Machinist’s death…but not even close to the state of these tunnels.

He discreetly snapped off another tail spine and stabbed it between the cracks in the wall nearest him. These served as his markers and would guide them back to the castle halls when they were done down here.

And why were they here?

Because skekTah had wanted to see how much usage these old tunnels had gotten without him and skekHak and the others in this place to use them.

Clearly, the place had rarely been visited except by those unaffected by the dank and the dark and the quiet. Only wild things lived here, the creepy crawlies of the shadows.

“I’ve only been down here a few times, to the tunnels that skekkUng and skekNa cleared for their work,” the Illustrator admitted nervously, wringing her hands. The shadows twisted into terrifying shapes, leaving her on edge. “I’ve never been this deep before. Is it safe?”

“In my world, that’s iffy. In this world…I’d say no.” skekTah sighed, turning around. “Let’s go back. The Counselor is probably furious that we left before he got to our meeting place.”

The original plan had been to meet with the Counselor and then explore the tunnels. skekKel had been down here many times before and knew which passages were safe. But an hour earlier, the Gardener had contacted skekLa and told her that the Emperor was keeping skekKel occupied with advising work and that he would be late. Eager to get the trip done and over with, the Illustrator suggested going ahead without him. skekTah had agreed, eager to spend as little time as possible in the larger Skeksis’ presence.

“Yes, let’s go back. Nothing is here, so let’s go home!” skekLa agreed, happy to be leaving the creepy darkness behind.

skekTah turned around and guided them back the way they came, torch peeling away at the shadows. Its light was beginning to dwindle now but that was fine. The Schemer could see the flames of stronger torches ahead, fixed to the walls by either the Garthim Master or the Slave-Master. Their torch died at the perfect time.

Reaching the brilliance of lit tunnels, he let the Illustrator pass and tossed their used torch into the darkness to trail hopeless embers across the stone. There was no need to fear a fire down here. There was nothing a catch fire. The embers would die with no hope of spreading.

“Finally! Light!” skekLa crowed, leaving the tunnels for small open spaces lit brightly with torches. She felt safer when she could actually see. “Now where did we say skekFer and skekKel would meet us?”

“The big room. Keep walking straight, you should see it from here,” skekTah replied.

He paused mid-step. Had he just heard something? He turned, looking into the darkness. He swore he’d heard something.

skekLa moved ahead until she reached a big chamber, situated just below one of the grand ritual chambers of skekZok’s. There was much debris here, piled along an unused set of stone stairs carved haphazardly into the wall before the room was abandoned. There was a primitive form of balcony a good twenty feet above her head.

“skekFer! skekKel! Are you here?” she called.

“skekLa!” skekFer peered over the balcony. “Why are you down there?”

“We said to meet down here. How did you get up there?” skekLa asked.

“Another tunnhel brought uhs uhp here.” skekKel joined his love, frowning down at the Illustrator. “Where have yhou bheen? Whe wehre here fohr the pahst tehn minhutes ahnd dihd noht seeh yhou.”

“Um… About that!” The Illustrator shuffled awkwardly. “We decided to go ahead without you. But we were okay! There was nothing down there! So please, don’t be mad!”

“Mahd? Ih’m mohre worrhied than mahd!” the Counselor barked. “What ihf something wahs dohwn there with yhou?”

“There was nothing but crawlies, Lord Counselor! Honest!” the Illustrator reassured. “We’re done now. Lord skekTah found nothing, so we shouldn’t come down here again.”

“Goohd! Iht ihs dangherous dohwn there,” skekKel huffed, though he was indeed relieved at their safety. “Where ihs skekTah?”

“He’s right behind… Lord skekTah? Lord skekTah, I’m over here! Come on!”

For some reason, the Schemer was still two rooms down, his back to her. He was just looking into the darkness of the catacombs. It was almost like he couldn’t hear her.

“I’ll be back,” she said, going back for the smaller Skeksis. She grabbed his sleeve. “Come on, Lord skekTah. Lord skekKel and Lady skekFer are h—”

“Don’t move.”

skekLa paused, about to ask why. Then she heard it. Some kind of airy hiss. No, it was a growl, low and almost inaudible but it was most certainly a growl. She froze, trying to penetrate the shadows of the tunnel with her weak vision.

“What is it?” she hissed, bristling in sudden alarm. She felt like she was being watched.

“Rakkida,” the Schemer replied just as softly.

“Rakkida?” skekLa felt every bone and muscle turn to ice.

She had heard tales of the beasts. Big, mean brutes that ruled the rocky plains far from the castle. Muscular with vestigial wings atop their backs that skekTek said must have once given them flight long ago. Thankfully, they could not fly now but they could run much faster than most ground-bound creatures could. She had only seen them in faint scribbles drawn by the Hunter. The image alone had frightened her.

And now the Schemer was telling her that a living, breathing rakkida was in the tunnel before her, cloaked in the darkness, hidden from her sight.

“How do you know?”

“I can see it,” skekTah hissed.

“How?”

“I can see in the dark better than most can see in the light. Now back up slowly,” skekTah ordered, slowly inching backward. “You say the Counselor is here. Go and get him, quickly.”

“He’s on a balcony. I don’t think he can get down here,” skekLa admitted, fear consuming her.

“Then get him down here!” skekTah hissed, torn between rage and terror.

“I don’t know how!”

“Then figure it out! And quickly!”

skekLa turned, beginning to move. The growl suddenly turned into a roar.

“Run!” skekTah instantly shouted.

By some miracle, the Illustrator’s wounded leg did not crumple beneath her as she bolted from a swift jog to a sudden run. But, deep down, she knew neither of them was moving fast enough. In their old age, a rakkida could overtake them both. And with skekKel and skekFer so far away, the only hope she had was to scream.

“Rakkida! Rakkida in the catacombs!” she shrieked. “Help! Rakkida in the catacombs!”

She turned back to judge how long she may have left to live, only to gasp. The rakkida, a huge beast that looked far more hideous than the haphazard scribbles that the Hunter had drawn long ago, had indeed emerged from the tunnel mouth with blazing eyes and a maw dripping with saliva. That was only half of why she had gasped, step faltering.

skekTah had bolted for the wall and was quickly ripping apart the twisted metals that held a torch in place. The rakkida was turning toward him. Easy prey.

“Lord skekTah, look o—oof!”

Her leg finally failed her, crumpling with the next step. skekLa was sent crashing to the floor, her back and joints crying out in agony. She cried out, half-sobbing from pain. She twisted, trying to make her legs work but she felt almost paralyzed.

The rakkida again shifted course, now aiming for the fallen Illustrator. She choked, trying to cry for help but her tongue was muddled between pain and misery and fear. No words could form, only senseless sounds.

This was it. This was the end. She was going to die here in the catacombs.

She hadn’t even told the Chamberlain where she had gone today. She wished she had that morning. Or at least told him, as she had many times before, that she loved him and was his for time eternal.

Would he mourn her? Miss her? Love her? Hate her? Would he even bother remembering her once she was gone?

Her final thoughts were torn through by a twisted roar. Her death was driven back by blazing fire.

“Lord skekTah!” she cried in joy.

The tiny Schemer had finally torn the torch from its fixings, tearing up his hands in the process on the metal but it was worth it. He leaped for the rakkida, jamming the burning wood against its face, aiming for its eye. His aim was true. The rakkida howled, leaping away to paw at the burning flesh, its missing eye, clawing embers away from the socket.

skekTah twisted, tossing the torch to rebound off of the rakkida and pull another howl from it, and lunged for the Illustrator. Arms around her waist, he pulled her up with all the adrenaline-fueled strength he had and pushed her ahead of him. This time, her leg did not fail her. They fled together into the grand chamber.

“skekLa! Are you okay?” skekFer cried.

“I’m fine! Where’s the Counselor?” skekLa demanded.

“He’s doubling back the way we came! He’s trying to get to you!” the Gardener replied.

“Well, tell him to hurry u—run!!” skekTah suddenly shouted, shoving the Illustrator aside.

The rakkida tore through the door, roaring.

skekFer screamed, lurching backward to topple to the balcony floor. She set about screaming, praying her cries reached her mate’s ears and hastened his trip. skekLa shrieked too, far beneath her but just as strongly.

The rakkida, the flesh of its left eye and one of its puny wings singed and blackened from the torch, circled the room before them.

skekTah scanned the chamber, trying to find a weapon to use against it. He now regretted getting rid of the torch, for all the ones in this room were too high up for him or skekLa to possibly reach.

He wondered briefly if skekZok was above them. Did the Ritual-Master ponder where the cacophony of screams was coming from? Was he summoning help? Or was the chamber empty, leaving their screams to reach no ears but those present in these dismal halls and rooms?

The rakkida turned on them, snarling. Smoke drifted from flesh that still burned from the flames. It now only had one eye, but its senses of hearing and smell were all it needed to find the two elderly Skeksis in the room. Perhaps it even smelled skekFer high above them. At least the stairs that led to that balcony were in ruins, covered in debris. It could not reach her very quickly, if it dared to try.

At least skekKel would be able to rescue her while the beast was busy chewing on skekTah and skekLa’s bones.

The Schemer felt rage and frustration bubble up in him. This was his fault. It was his idea to go into the catacombs. Since finding the tunnels, he’d grown eager to find more parallels between his reality and this one. Too eager, clearly. And the thought of being able to do it without the frightening Counselor looming over him just fuelled his excitement.

If only he had waited. If only he had accepted the fact that he did not know the state of the catacombs here, that skekKel knew more than he did. If he had waited, perhaps the rakkida would not be attacking them now. It would likely be dead already, slain by skekKel’s sword. There were so many “if only”s that they crowded skekTah’s mind with their truths.

And now he was stuck in this chamber with skekLa, his closest ally in this reality, about to be devoured by a rakkida.

And there was no Conqueror to come to his rescue this time.

The rakkida pounced, toothy jaws open. skekTah turned, shoving skekLa one way while he darted the other. The rakkida turned and, with one broad swipe of its massive paw, tossed the delicate Illustrator to the ground. skekTah heard the sound of something cracking, as if it were an accusation in his ears.

_This is all your fault. You did this. You should be dying here, not her, you coward._

skekLa moaned but did not move. A horrifying scenario crashed unbidden into the Schemer’s mind.

Her back might’ve broken with that blow. She may be crippled for life.

And it was all his fault.

The world spun black and he screamed, his vision dying.

.o.o.o.o.

The door crunched, thick wood buckling beneath the weight of the Counselor. skekKel snarled, ramming into it again. He ignored the pain singing through his arm and shoulder. He could hear skekFer screaming and the rakkida roaring.

He had to get in there!

How? How had a rakkida gotten into the castle? Had it wandered to the castle and entered the catacombs through one of the Garthim chutes?

He’d told the Emperor time and time again that there should be doors there to prevent such a scenario, but skekUng waved it off with the fact that even the scent of a Garthim drove most creatures away from the castle and thus from the chutes. Nothing but crawlies lived in the catacombs.

A rakkida did not qualify as “most creatures”. They were in a category all their own. skekKel knew this from experience.

And now there was one in the next room, stalking the Illustrator and the Schemer. Preparing to kill them. Perhaps even to kill his dear mate, for a balcony was high but a determined rakkida would scale any obstacle for a meal. Though the staircase was debris-strewn, it wasn’t enough to keep a hungry rakkida from using it.

He poured this rage, this sudden swell of protective urges, into his next strike. The first set of hinges snapped and the door began to lean. He rammed again, the next set of hinges breaking. Only one more left to go!

A sharp scream made him pause.

It was not skekLa or skekFer’s. It could only be the Schemer’s.

Was he being slain? Was he dying this very moment? Had the Counselor been too late to rescue the stranger?

No! skekKel refused to believe it was so!

With another crash, the door finally gave way and hit the floor. He was inside, sword drawn, ready to wage war against the animal. His sharp eyes took in the scene within a second.

skekLa lay on the floor beneath the balcony, unmoving. He could not tell if she was alive, though the lack of blood brought him hope. The rakkida stood at the center of the chamber, head swiveling between him and its current target. Its left eye was gone, flesh warped from fire to match one of its pathetic excuses for wings. Smoke curled from it, promising that these wounds were recent.

It was skekTah who captured all attention.

The Schemer, small and weak, stood bristling. His posture was foreign suddenly, the very definition of a bloodthirsty animal. His eyes were the most striking, sharp and cold like chips of golden ice. The pupils were slit in a manner that no Skeksis’ should be. Combined with his spiked carapace, he looked like a truly deadly thing.

And with a scream, skekTah pounced at the rakkida.

He landed along the animal’s back, talons ripping into flesh while his toothy beak snapped shut on the undamaged wing, ripping into it with unmatched vigor. The rakkida howled, lurching and bucking in a bid to toss the Skeksis off. Its roar only grew when blood spurted from its flank when skekTah’s tail struck it.

skekKel found himself focusing on that tail, the limb that skekTah always kept hidden and out of view of them. Even when undressing the Schemer when he’d been poisoned, the tail had curled close and refused to stay in sight of the Counselor, as if it had a mind of its own.

Now that he could actually see it, he noticed differences from his own. The hairs of skekTah’s tail were dark with lighter strands interspersed among them. With the next bloody whip of the limb, skekKel finally saw the white strands for what the truly were.

Tail spines, rigid and serrated like blades.

With every strike, some imbedded into the rakkida’s flesh. Others broke from his tail to clatter along the floor, leaving red streaks where they fell. With every swing of that tail, the spines clacked together to create a most frightening song.

The rattling! A noise that he’d heard from the Schemer more than once!

Until now, the Counselor had believed it to be from the odds and ends of skekTek’s machinery in skekTah’s carapace. But no, it was his tail! The rattling was from skekTah’s tail, not his carapace!

The rakkida reared up on its hind legs, bellowing. skekTah shifted positions, talons tearing into every available inch of flesh that he could reach. One wing ripped away, the Schemer twisted to bite at the animal’s neck and rip his claws across its face and throat, the claws on his feet tearing at ribs. It was like watching two wild animals fight a bloody battle to the death.

_“Sometimes, to kill a wild animal, you must become a wild animal yourself. That does not mean you must discard your lifestyle as a Lord, skekKel. Just be willing to put it aside, like putting a glass on a table. You can pick it up again. Just be willing to put it down in favor of something less…regal.”_

skekKel shuddered. Those words, he hadn’t heard them in a long time. Seeing this scene now reminded him of trine long since passed, of a time when he used to go out on hunts with…

The Hunter.

That was what it was. skekTah was fighting much like the Hunter had. A wild animal slaying another wild animal, with only one victor.

The rakkida howled, its blood coating the stone beneath it. It was nearing the end of its life. With another buck, weaker than its past struggles, it reared back onto its hind legs. Its eyes burned once more.

And then it fell backward, landing squarely on the Schemer.

skekKel roared, lunging instantly to move the beast. The sickening crunch of the landing boomed in his ears. He recalled that the Schemer’s back was broken. Such a wild fight with such a crushing ending could’ve finally done him in. It could’ve been enough to destroy the carapace, destroy the back brace, and take the small stranger’s life.

skekTah could very well be dead.

With a brutal show of strength, the rakkida was lifted and thrown aside. The Schemer lay beneath, curled on his side. The carapace was cracked, the ends of the narrow spikes along its spine and edge broken and splintered. skekKel quickly unhooked it, discarding it to the side to see the back brace beneath it.

The gray casing of the back brace, not quite metal but some barely-flexible material, was cracked in places. One of the bolts had come out. Two wires had popped from their places, ends sharp and broken.

skekKel could not tell what all of this meant. The brace did not look completely broken but it was clearly damaged, just as the carapace was. Was skekTah’s back broken again? Had his spine broken? Was he dead?

He lifted the smaller Skeksis’ head, two fingers at skekTah’s throat. He waited.

Relief quickly fluttered in his chest. There was a pulse, weak and sluggish, but it was there.

skekTah still lived, if only for the moment.

The Counselor jolted when he heard movement, grasping for his sword. Was the rakkida still alive?

“Coun…sel…or?”

He sighed, dropping the weapon. “Illuhstrator. Youh’re ahlive.”

skekLa smiled weakly, slowly sitting up. Her bones and jointed ached. “Somehow, I am. I thought I was dead for sure. I think my carapace is a little cracked…but I feel okay. Is Lord skekTah…?”

“Ahlive, though his carahpace ahnd bahck brahce ahre dahmaged,” skekKel reported, glancing at the smaller Skeksis. He then looked up at his mate on the balcony above them. “Ahre yhou ohkay, skekFher?”

“I’m fine. Are you?” the Gardener asked shakily.

“Ih ahm fihne,” he confirmed.

skekLa looked at the fallen rakkida. “How did it get in?”

“Prohbably through the Garthim tunnhels.”

“Didn’t you say there should be doors on those, Lord Counselor?”

“Ih dihd.”

“Maybe this will convince the Emperor that you are right,” skekLa offered.

“Perhaps,” skekKel muttered.

“Nnnn…”

“Lord skekTah? Are you awake?” skekLa asked, recognizing that groan.

She scrambled over just as the Schemer opened his eyes. They were hazy, unlike the sharp gold that the Counselor had seen earlier. Whatever had overtaken the Schemer was gone now.

“skek…La? Wha…?” he mumbled, blinking to clear his vision. “…Why do I taste blood?”

“Yhou khilled the rahkkida,” skekKel replied.

“…I did?” skekTah muttered.

“Yhou dihd,” the Counselor confirmed.

“…I don’t remember killing one…”

He slowly sat up, not arguing when skekLa and skekKel offered him help. Within an instant, he was yelping.

“What’s wrong? Lord skekTah?” the Illustrator yelped.

“Wire in my back! Get it out! Owowow!” skekTah hissed.

skekKel checked over the back brace and spotted the sharp end of a wire digging into the back. A light tug pulled it free. The Schemer relaxed, though he was very careful in his movements.

“My brace is damaged, isn’t it?”

“Carahpace tooh,” skekKel added.

“Wonderful,” skekTah muttered. “What happened? The last thing I remember is skekLa going down.”

“Youh atthacked the rahkkida,” skekKel explained. “Yhou wehre lihke ah wihld ahnimal, bihting ahnd clahwing iht. Yhou wehre vhery much nhot yhourself.”

“…Oh no,” skekTah groaned, resting his beak in his hands. “Not again…”

“Again? What happened, Lord skekTah?” skekFer had left the balcony, finally reaching them. “Oh no, your back…”

“It has been far, far too long since I’ve had one of those episodes,” skekTah muttered.

“Ehpisodes?” skekKel prodded. “This has happened befhore?”

“…Unfortunately, yes,” the Schemer admitted, looking firmly at the floor. “You were correct, Counselor. I was not myself. I’m not sure I was even there. I can’t remember anything between skekLa going down and me waking up here.”

“…This happened before, you said,” skekLa pointed out.

“Yes, only a few decades ago, I’d think,” skekTah explained. “skekUng was harassing an ally of mine after a punishment had been dealt. He wouldn’t let me leave the area with them. I just got angrier and angrier at him…and then I blacked out, just as I did today.”

“What happened?” skekFer asked warily.

“…Apparently, I struck skekUng across the beak,” skekTah said. “Then I warned him against further harassment of my ally and me that day. I woke up directly after the strike with no memory of it. I was filled in by another ally of mine. I haven’t had an episode like that since.”

“You hit skekUng?” skekLa cried.

“I did,” skekTah chuckled meanly. “He still bears the scars to this day. He and his allies told nobody where he actually got them, not even the Emperor. He lied and said it was from a training accident of some kind. The only ones that know the scars’ real origins are me, my allies, skekUng and his allies, skekLach, and skekSil. Apparently being struck by the lowly Schemer is enough to keep one’s beak shut for life.”

“You don’t remember striking him?” skekFer questioned. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing. I blacked out and then awoke with blood on my hands. It was like waking up from a daydream, as if I had simply zoned out,” skekTah admitted.

“And you did that here, with the rakkida,” skekLa muttered, looking back at the fallen beast.

“I had to have. It’s the only reason I’d have ever attacked it in the manner that the Counselor described,” skekTah said.

“Yhou lhost controhl ohf yhourself,” skekKel deduced. “Lhet insthinct tahke ohver.”

“In a roundabout way…yes,” skekTah nodded.

They sat there in silence for a bit, letting this new information sink in. skekFer and skekLa looked at one another in confusion, still processing this strange scenario. The Counselor stared at the ground, expression mixed. skekTah rested his head in his hands, just trying to calm himself.

He had snapped again. He had hoped it would never occur again. Yet this time, he’d attacked and killed a rakkida. Great Thra…

A low, gurgling growl snapped all four out of their thoughts. skekFer screamed, lurching backward awkwardly to her feet. skekLa crab-walked backward, choking on her own shriek. skekTah froze, jaw dropping.

“I didn’t kill it?!” the Schemer asked, dumbfounded.

The rakkida rose shakily on its four legs, blood painting its hide a sharp crimson color. Its breaths were labored. It was covered in the bites and deep gouges that skekTah’s claws had made, ripping its thick skin open in spots. Yet the animal still lived.

skekKel rose to his feet, sword in hand. “Tahke skekLah ahnd skekFher ahnd goh!” he ordered.

“Go? What about you?” skekTah yelped.

“Ih cahn khill iht,” skekKel replied, falling into a defensive stance. “Buht Ih neehd toh knohw that yhou ahll ahre ouht ohf the whay.”

“Lord skekTah, come on!” skekLa cried, staggering to her feet. “Lord skekKel can take care of himself! We have to go!”

skekTah frowned, looking from the wounded rakkida to skekKel.

There was no contest. The rakkida was clearly on its last legs. It stood no chance against the armed Counselor.

He shakily rose, collecting his damaged carapace. Then he followed skekLa and skekFer to the chamber exit. The women darted down the tunnel, returning to the castle proper. skekTah paused, looking back.

The rakkida hissed, stalking around warily. The Counselor lowered his stance, preparing to strike. His sword glinted sharply in the torchlight.

skekTah turned and left as the rakkida pounced. skekKel’s war cry rang in his ears.

.o.o.o.o.

“Hmmmmm! The Gourmand can make even that rotten rakkida taste excellent!” skekLa purred.

skekTah had to agree, munching quietly on the portion that the Illustrator managed to get for him. It tasted excellent. If he didn’t know it was rakkida, he might’ve thought it was Nebrie seasoned with some new spices.

“Oh! By the way, the Counselor was asking about your back,” skekLa recalled.

“As long as we bend some of the wires back into place, my brace should be fine. The putty in my tool bag can be used to seal the cracks,” skekTah replied. “My carapace is a different matter. I can putty the inside to seal it, but the broken spines are irreparable. I’ll just need to smooth them out so I don’t get caught on things and nobody gets hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” skekLa muttered. “If I hadn’t gotten hit—”

“If you hadn’t gotten hit, the rakkida may have been chewing on us for dinner right now,” skekTah interrupted. “What has happened has happened. It’s too late for ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s. The main thing is that we are all alive and roughly well.”

skekLa shifted in her seat, worried. She had seen the Schemer’s back brace, the popped wires and cracked casing. He had been bleeding in spots where the wire had stabbed him. He wasn’t complaining about pain now…but was he truly okay?

“I’m fine,” skekTah reiterated, as if reading her mind. “The damage could’ve been worse. We’re lucky the Counselor did manage to kill it.”

“Only because you managed to hurt it so much first.”

“I’m still surprised that didn’t kill it,” skekTah huffed, annoyed. “I know I’d probably be dead if I was that torn up.”

skekLa turned back to her drawings. Inspiration had been dashed in the hours after the attack until dinner. Now her pad of paper was covered in detailed sketches of the animal as she could recall it, burnt eye and all.

And with them was a solitary sketch of the Schemer without his carapace, beak and hands bloody, wild-eyed as skekKel had described him. He looked so vastly different from the Skeksis behind her, this foreign wild and ferocious visage. It almost reminded her of another Skeksis that had perished long ago…

She sighed, putting her quill down. Remembering the rakkida made her recall her so-called final thoughts. She hadn’t thought to find the Chamberlain after the incident and dinner had been full of congratulations to the Counselor for killing the rakkida. There had been no time to catch skekSil alone.

“I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back after while,” she stated, getting to her feet.

“I’ll be here,” skekTah said, waving goodbye from his spot on the floor.

She left her quarters, locking it behind her. Then she wandered, searching for her mate. skekSil was not terribly hard to find. He was likely taunting skekUng about the Garthim chutes letting the rakkida in.

And that was where she found him, leaving the great hall after a verbal bout with the General. skekUng was enraged, stomping the other way with skekNa in tow. skekSil certainly looked pleased, expression lighting up further when he saw the Illustrator.

“Hmmmm. I had wondered where you went to after dinner,” he said.

“I had to drop a few things off in my room,” she explained.

Then, once she was certain no one was around to see, she hugged him tightly.

skekSil hummed in confusion before hugging her back. He was used to his mate’s elaborate shows of affection. Even before his own feelings had blossomed for her, she had shown a special kind of attention toward him. Persistent, beautiful, and endless. Those were the things he loved about her.

But there was a slightly different feel this time. skekLa hugged him tight, as if it may be her last. This puzzled him.

He recalled the story that the Counselor had regaled them with at dinner. Of how he had been walking with skekLa and skekFer, advising their behavior and doing his duty as the Counselor to keep the courtesans in place, when the rakkida had emerged before them from the catacombs. Of how he had bravely drawn his sword and battled it, first with sword, then tooth and claw when his blade had been knocked away, and then slaying it with his sword once he’d regained it. Of how frightened the two women had been.

Was that why? Had seeing that rakkida frightened skekLa so badly that she had believed she would die? That she would never see the Chamberlain again?

“skekLa,” he said gently. “It is all right. The rakkida is dead. It cannot hurt you now.”

“I know. I know,” she choked, beak buried in his robes. “But…I was so sure… I thought I would…”

“You must not underestimate the Counselor, darling. Aren’t you the one who always tells me this?” he teased.

skekLa pulled away, scrubbing tears away. But she giggled. “I am,” she admitted. “I am sorry, skekSil.”

“Hush. Everything is fine. The Garthim chutes will be dealt with,” he reassured, bringing her close to him. “A rakkida will never get into the castle again. You will not be put into such danger a second time, skekLa.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she said, huddling into his embrace. “I was so scared…”

skekSil held his mate close, humming. Oh, if only he had been there. That rakkida would not have dared to take even a step toward his mate!

He reminded himself to thank the Counselor later, in secret.

.o.o.o.o.

“Are you all right, Lord skekKel? You seem stressed.”

The Counselor fought to calm himself when the Gardener stroked his face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get that image out of his mind—the wild manner of skekTah’s fighting, so reminiscent of that of the Hunter at times. The parallel agitated him greatly.

“Ih ahm fihne, skekFher,” skekKel reassured. “Juhst thinking ohf what happened todhay.”

“The rakkida?”

“Mhore alhong the lhines ohf skekTah.”

“skekTah? What about him?” skekFer paused. “You mean his back? I’ve been worried about that too. But skekLa said he was fine.”

“That ihs ghood toh hear,” skekKel admitted, relaxing a bit. He had been concerned about that too.

skekFer bustled between her plants, checking over progress. The Counselor tried to focus on her, her efforts, but the wild savagery of skekTah’s attack on the rakkida kept bursting forth in his mind. He could not blot it out. It was just too similar. There was no other Skeksis he knew that would even think of fighting in such a manner.

The sky was growing dark. Night was falling over Skarith.

Perhaps it was time to confront the Schemer. To learn a bit more about him and his world. Yes, perhaps it was time.

skekKel just hoped that he didn’t manage to frighten the smaller away in the process.


	6. skekLa, skekKel, and skekFer: Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct sequel to Wild, taking place during the next day. This was spawned by ideas between me, SkekKel, and SkekLa of how to get Tah and Kel to become friends since Tah is currently very afraid of Kel. This is what I came up with from all of that.
> 
> This took so long to write! Hopefully, it was worth it!
> 
> skekLa belongs to SkekLa  
> skekKel belongs to SkekKel   
> skekFer belongs to FeruFeru

skekTah decided to keep his explorations firmly within the lit corridors of the castle. The encounter with the rakkida had shaken his adventurous spirit, but not his curiosity. He was still determined to find what parallels lie between his and skekLa’s realities.

To achieve this, he stayed within his tunnels while skekLa followed from outside, tracing the cracks along the walls and following the hissed directions from the Schemer when no other Skeksis was near.

She too was curious. The tunnels themselves had intrigued her, for no one had known of their existence until skekTah revealed them to her. The Illustrator wished to know what other secrets the castle may possess that no one had found yet.

skekTah did not argue against her request. Secrets were always good to have. If all else failed, they were incentives to sell in order to avoid harm from others.

Yes, secrets were very good to have.

So far, nothing looked out of place. Everything looked just as it always did. It began to annoy skekTah. Surely there was something else familiar in this castle that connected him to home.

He almost didn’t notice that skekLa wasn’t speaking to him anymore. She hadn’t for several minutes now.

“skekLa? skekLa?”

He peered through a crack in the tunnel wall and found an empty corridor before his gaze. The Illustrator was not there.

Feeling anxious, he instantly backtracked. Perhaps he had moved too fast. Maybe skekLa had to stop and rest for some reason. Their separation couldn’t have been longer than a few minutes.

“—up to, Illustrator?”

“Sneaking around, it looks like, General.”

“I was just walking, honest.”

“You never ‘just walk’, Illustrator. You’ve got a shifty look on your beak. Out spying for the Chamberlain?”

“No, I—”

“Look at her panic, General! Hah! Definitely up to something.”

skekTah bristled at the voices—skekUng and skekNa. Why didn’t skekLa tell him they had turned up?

He found a crack and peered out, viewing the scene. skekLa was backed against the far wall, cornered behind the bulks of the Slave-Master and the General. It didn’t look good, not from the conversation he was hearing.

“Honestly, General, I was ju—”

“Keep your lies to yourself! Just what could that whimpering Chamberlain have you up to this time?” skekUng growled.

“Lord skekSil is a honored member of this court, General!” skekLa hissed.

“Honored? Pah! By who? You?” skekNa cackled. “If he vanished tomorrow, the court would be better off!”

“How dare yo—”

skekLa made to stalk forward, perhaps even to strike at the one-eyed Skeksis, only for skekUng to promptly trip her up. With a sharp shriek, she hit the floor and groaned. Neither Skeksis made a move to help her.

“Look at you! You can barely stand on your feet!” skekUng laughed.

skekTah felt his anger rise. This was a familiar scene, only he was seeing it from the outside.

_“What will you do about it, Schemer? Cry to the Emperor?”_

_“Emperor’s little pet snitch! Pah hah hah!”_

_“What’s wrong? Can’t you defend yourself without running to the General or the Hunter?”_

_“Of course he can’t! He can’t do anything right except stick his beak where it doesn’t belong!”_

_“Isn’t that the truth? Sniveling creature!”_

Their laughter echoed in his ears. His claws dug into the stone under his hands. He was so close to ripping away the sheet of rock, to exposing himself to his tormentors—to skekLa’s tormentors. Anything to make this horrible replay event stop!

“What ihs gohing ohn here?”

The laughter died instantly. skekTah didn’t need to see the speaker to know who it was. The speech pattern was enough. All eyes moved down the corridor.

From the torch lit darkness of the hall came the Counselor.

“skekKel,” skekUng muttered.

“I thought you were meeting with the Emperor,” skekNa called out, suddenly nervous.

“Ih have mhet with the Ehmperor. Nhow Ih ahm ohn mhy whay bhack toh mhy rhoom…ohr Ih whas…”

skekKel stepped closer, noting skekLa on the floor. His gaze sharpened. skekTah found himself bristling in alarm. There was a sudden radiance of danger coming from the larger Skeksis. The Schemer was grateful to be in his tunnels.

The words skekKel spoke did not match the dangerous aura pouring from him. They were neat, controlled, and frighteningly curious.

“Why ihs skekLah ohn the floohr?” skekKel inquired. “Ih whas uhnder the imprehssion that dihrection ohf the couhrtesans fhell ohnto meh.”

“We were doing nothing,” skekUng denied.

“She fell! We were helping! See?” skekNa bent to snag the Illustrator’s arm, pulling her to her feet.

“Then what wahs the laughter Ih heard?”

skekNa hesitated before answering. “I thought she looked funny on the floor, that’s all.”

It was clear that skekKel did not believe them, but he did not call them out on it. skekLa was quick to part company with the Slave-Master’s claws in favor of sheltering behind the Counselor. skekNa backed up, waiting on the General to give the final word.

“I believe skekTek needed us for something. We’ll be on our way,” skekUng stated, turning away.

There were no farewells spoken. skekUng and skekNa left, turning the nearest corner to get out of skekKel’s sight. Once they were gone, the Counselor calmed himself before turning to skekLa.

“Ahre yhou hurt?” he asked.

“Nowhere other than the usual. Lord skekUng tripped me,” the Illustrator admitted, rubbing an elbow to soothe the bolts of pain from her fall. “You turned up at the right time.”

“Ih apphear toh have,” skekKel agreed. “…What ahre yhou dohing dohwn here?”

“Well…I was travelling around with Lord skekTah—oh my goodness! Lord skekTah!”

“I’m here,” skekTah stated.

The Counselor jumped, twisting to look around. skekTah almost laughed at that alone.

skekLa darted for the wall, pawing at the cracks until she and the Schemer pulled back the rock sheet. skekTah poked his head out, smirking. skekKel did not look amused.

“Fhor ah mhoment, Ih had thought yhou wehre foolish enough toh lheave those tunnhels,” the Counselor admitted.

“And risk running into those two? Not on your life,” the Schemer said. He looked at skekLa. “Are you really okay?”

“Nothing that hasn’t happened before. They barely touched me that time. I’ll be fine,” skekLa reassured.

skekTah turned his attention back to skekKel, shivering. The other Skeksis, far larger than him by a good margin, had been an intimidating figure from the start. Yet somehow, skekKel kept these connections to Skeksis far smaller and weaker than himself. Was he somehow attracted to those that were helpless?

“Why?”

The question was out before he could stop himself. skekTah wanted to die suddenly.

“Why what?” skekKel asked.

Too late to back out now. All skekTah could do was forge ahead. If anything else, his tunnel was right behind him. He could race down it to escape if the Counselor got mad. skekKel was too big to fit and wouldn’t be able to rip away at solid rock very quickly.

“Why did you help skekLa?”

The words spilled from his beak rapidly, as if the question couldn’t be spoken fast enough.

skekKel blinked, confused. skekLa seemed equally lost.

“Why wouldn’t he help me?” the Illustrator asked.

“skekLah ahnd Ih ahre ahllies, skekTah,” the Counselor stated. “Ahllies help each other. skekLah wahs ihn trouhble, soh Ih helped her.”

skekTah knew about the alliance. skekLa had told him shortly after he had recovered from the poison of skekFer’s plant. It still baffled him in its nature.

skekKel was clearly a big, strong Skeksis. That could not be argued or denied. Add in the sword at his waist and one would believe him to be firmly allied amongst the military alliance. skekTah could easily picture skekKel being chummy with the likes of skekUng.

Yet the Counselor had clearly disapproved of skekUng’s actions. He’d come to skekLa’s defense without hesitation.

“Ihs something wrohng with that, skekTah?” skekKel asked.

skekTah stumbled back, shuddering. The words sounded like a challenge. He withdrew instantly.

“Of course not. I was just curious,” the Schemer said. “skekLa, I think we’re done today. I’ll head back to your quarters now.”

He slunk into the darkness of the tunnel without another word. The rock sheet was moved back into place behind him. He quickly moved down the corridor that would take him back to the Illustrator’s quarters.

skekLa and skekKel were speaking behind him, lingering together in the corridor beyond his tunnel.

skekTah didn’t stay to eavesdrop on them.

.o.o.o.o.

The day passed so slowly. skekTah was grateful when night finally fell. While the rest of the Skeksis turned in, the Schemer could slink about as he pleased. Only under the cover of total darkness was he safe in this familiar but oh-so-foreign castle.

Ironically enough, he found himself frequently slinking to the one place he had thought he’d never visit again—skekFer’s garden.

Since he’d been poisoned by the Spiniferus lerouge plant, the Schemer rarely came to this section of the castle. Then one night about a week ago, skekLa showed him the fantastic view of the night sky from the garden. He’d fallen in love. Stargazing had been something he’d done at home, a harmless hobby that had killed evening boredom many a night.

The view was no different here than at home. The same stars, same constellations, and the brilliant image of his dear friend skekHak, forever painted among the stars in his mind’s eye. It never ceased to be beautiful to him.

At least this was a reliable constant.

skekTah settled down on a stone bench and watched the stars blaze brilliantly high above. Seeing the Machinist made him feel homesick, but it also brought comfort. He felt safe under skekHak’s starry gaze.

“skekTah?”

And his safety was abruptly ripped away from him.

He bristled before turning, golden gaze sweeping the stone path behind him. In the shadow of a stone arch stood the tall, menacing figure of the Counselor. Unfortunately, there was no gentle Gardener with him.

skekKel was alone.

.o.o.o.o.

“Mhay weh tahlk?”

Moment of truth. skekKel had been building up his courage for this all day. He’d planned it all out, with help from the Illustrator. It was she who directed him here, where the Schemer tended to slink when night fell.

_“Why do you need to know where he goes to at night, Lord Counselor?”_

_“Ih…have bheen mheaning toh spheak with him…fhor quhite sohme tihme nhow,” skekKel admitted. “Bhut Ih…have nhot knohwn how. He ihs…”_

_“Scared of you. I’ve noticed,” skekLa said._

_That hit the nail on the head. His suspicions were confirmed. skekTah was indeed afraid of him. That could present problems._

_“There’s a lot about Lord skekTah that I don’t know yet,” the Illustrator admitted. “But I feel that he isn’t cruel or unfair. If you approach him on equal terms, I’m sure he’ll hear you out.”_

_“Ih hope soh. Ih doh nhot wish toh mhake ahn enhemy ouht ohf him.”_

_The events of yesterday with the rakkida were firm proof of this. Though small, skekTah had proven to be a deadly foe in combat, even if it had been in a state of wildness that the Schemer could not remember. Sometimes it was the ones suffering from such fits that were the most dangerous._

_“He goes to the garden.”_

_skekKel started at that. The garden? Surely the Schemer would avoid going there alone after being poisoned._

_“After I showed him the stars that night, he can’t stop going back. I really think he liked it, Lord skekKel…which is great. He doesn’t have a lot to call his own here. He doesn’t show much happiness but when his face lit up that night…it was wonderful.” skekLa smiled fondly. “It must be terrifying, being stuck in a world that isn’t your own. Lord skekTah must be very lonely. I know he had many close allies back home…that aren’t here. So maybe, until he goes home, if we could…”_

_“Ih undherstand, skekLah,” skekKel nodded. “Thank yhou fhor tehlling meh.”_

And now here the Schemer was, bristling in that manner that warned against approach.

skekKel stayed in his place, waiting. Patience was key. The last thing he wanted to do was corner the other. There was already so much fear in the mix here. He did not wish to add to it in any way.

“Why do you want to talk?” skekTah asked warily.

Those eyes, so sharp and suspicious. The Schemer truly believed the Counselor had the worst intentions for him. What could have caused this? Something back home?

“Behcause weh have nhot spohken much sihnce weh mhet,” skekKel replied, remaining passive and lax. He gave off as few muddled signals as possible so that his intent could not be misinterpreted. “Ih knohw soh lihttle abouht yhou.”

The suspicion was still there…but it was lessening. The bristling died. The faint rattling from his tail—skekKel indeed remembered the tail spines—ceased.

“…Do as you will,” skekTah stated, turning away.

skekKel moved carefully. He did not wish to give the impression that he was stalking toward skekTah. No menace or malice was to be found in his actions tonight. However, conveying that to one so skittish was difficult. The Counselor feared that every soft sound from his armor, every audible step he made, would send the Schemer sprinting away from him in terror.

Yet the Schemer, blessedly, stayed put on the bench.

This, skekKel was grateful for. “Mhay Ih siht?”

“If you wish.”

skekKel seated himself on the stone bench close to the Schemer, but not too close. He had a feeling that his size was an intimidating factor. He loosened his shoulders, trying to appear smaller. It was by very little, but it was an attempt. Hopefully skekTah would notice this and recognize the attempt for what it was.

He craned his head, looking up at the stars. He too had become fascinated by those glittering lights high in the sky. On peaceful nights, he’d find his eyes wandering up to them. They truly were beautiful things, stars.

“Did skekLa put you up to this?”

“Noh. Ih mhade this decihsion mysehlf,” skekKel stated. “Though she dihd tehll meh where toh fihnd yhou.”

“Of course.”

Now came the hard part—convincing the Schemer to speak openly with him. There was so much skekKel wanted to know…but he didn’t wish to frighten the smaller with so many questions. He didn’t want to appear too nosy, either.

“Why aren’t you allied with skekUng?”

Ah, this question. skekKel had seen it coming.

“Weh wehre, aht ohne tihme,” he admitted. “Bhut, ahs the trihne wehnt ohn, Ih beghan toh dihstance mysehlf frohm him. His attahcks ohn skekLah dihd noht help his cahse.”

“You broke away from him?”

“Ih dihd,” skekKel confirmed. “Ih doh noht regreht iht. Ih have fouhnd ah better exihstence amohng skekLah ahnd the dihplomats.”

skekTah looked baffled. The Counselor could understand that it was a shocking concept, but it was the truth. After a moment, the Schemer looked away.

“skekLa told me a lot about you,” he admitted.

“Dihd she?” skekKel was not surprised by this. skekLa had noted the fear and probably attempted to diffuse it herself before now. “Soh yhou knohw abouht meh…bhut Ih doh noht knohw much abouht yhou.”

“What’s there to know? My stay here is not permanent,” skekTah recalled. “Why should I bother telling anyone the details of my world when I could be gone tomorrow?”

“Perhaps yhou wihll nehver ghet home,” skekKel pointed out. “Wouhldn’t iht beh eahsier fhor uhs toh knohw? Ih ahm noht ahsking fhor much, ahm Ih?”

“…Perhaps you’re asking for more than you know,” skekTah stated, staring at the stone path below his feet.

“Iht ihs becauhse Ih doh noht knohw…that Ih ahm ahsking,” skekKel reasoned.

“…I see.”

Perhaps he had overstepped some invisible boundary. Were things in skekTah’s world so different compared to theirs?

“I guess, if you are so interested, I can tell you,” skekTah decided, looking back up at the stars. “So, Counselor skekKel…what do you want to know?”

.o.o.o.o.

The Schemer was confused, torn between fear and curiosity. Out of nowhere, the Counselor had approached him with questions about himself and the world he heralded from. It was, perhaps, to be expected.

He just had not expected the Counselor to be asking.

He had expected skekLa to ask. She was the one he was with the most. She would hold the most curiosity about him and his strange situation.

Yet here was skekKel in her place, of his own free will.

It was a foreign and terrifying ordeal. skekKel was putting off signals that clashed with the ones that skekTah had expected. Passivity, caution, restraint, even withdrawal. He had noticed the way the Counselor had smoothed his shoulders, sinking in on himself by a few inches. Why? It made no sense. Why was the Counselor behaving so strangely?

This went against everything he had come to expect from a Skeksis like skekKel. He expected aggression, domination, even a demanding tone to his questions. He expected similar behavior to skekUng’s.

Yet skekKel gave none of it. Just this patient passivity.

It was confusing. skekTah hated it. He liked things to turn out how he expected them to, people most of all.

And skekKel was destroying these expectations in one fell swoop.

“Yhour whorld,” skekKel started. “Iht ihs sihmiliar toh ouhr ohwn, yehs?”

“So it appears,” the Schemer confirmed. “Even my tunnels are here. A few…key things…are missing but overall, everything is roughly the same here as in my reality.”

“Khey things?”

“…skekHak’s chambers are gone.”

“skekHak? Ih doh nhot behlieve Ih knohw who that ihs.”

“He died three hundred trine after the division…of old age,” skekTah said, teeth grit. “He was the second to die in my reality.”

“Sehcond? Another dhied befhore him?” skekKel inquired cautiously.

“Yes,” skekTah nodded. “skekYi died during the division. His counterpart fell into the shaft below the crystal and hit the lava far below. There was no time to help him. He couldn’t even scream.”

“Ih…ahm sohrry.”

“Don’t be. It’s been over six hundred trine since then. It’s too late to feel sorry for him,” skekTah said coldly.

He fought to ignore the memories clouding his mind. skekYi turning to ash before his eyes. skekHak crumbling to dust in his cot. It was too painful to think about. Speaking of it only made the pain double in his chest.

“They wehre yhour ahllies?”

“skekHak was. I barely knew skekYi, but he was the first Skeksis I attempted conversation with after the division. He died before he could respond to me.”

“…Mohst ohf ouhr memhories ohf the dihvision ahre fhuzzy,” skekKel stated. “Ih rehmember ah loht ohf ahnger.”

“Did you attack the urRu? Before the Emperor cracked the Great Crystal?” skekTah asked.

“Iht ihs posshible,” the Counselor shrugged.

Of course it was. If skekUng and the rest in his reality attacked the withdrawn urRu, the Schemer had no doubts that the Counselor may have engaged the urRu in a similar manner here.

“Ohnly those twoh dhied?”

“…They’re the only ones counted officially as dead,” skekTah admitted. “skekLi the Satirist is gone. Banished after the Gelfling Gathering. The Emperor grew volatile after the prophecy was unveiled. He wasn’t interested in skekLi’s pranks anymore and took them personally. It’s likely that he’s dead by now.”

.o.o.o.o.

skekYi and skekHak were names that the Counselor did not recognize. The same went for the Satirist. Though he did not know them, he felt a pang in his chest for their deaths. The expression on the Schemer’s face spoke of torment and pain. It was clear that he missed them.

“Weh have lhost ouhr fhair share ohf couhrt mehmbers tooh,” skekKel admitted.

“Every reality probably has. I doubt there exists a reality where nobody died,” skekTah muttered darkly.

“Death happens. There ihs lhittle weh cahn doh toh stohp iht,” skekKel said firmly.

“As long as you never forget them,” skekTah recalled, frowning at the stars. “You can remember them and move on. As long as you never forget, they aren’t ever truly gone. They wouldn’t want us to languish in misery over them.”

“…That ihs ah goohd sahying,” skekKel noted.

“Thank skekVar. Those are his words, not mine,” skekTah smirked. “I just quote them.”

The Schemer was beginning to relax. He was no longer so tense and guarded. He was opening up. This, skekKel viewed as a success.

“skekVahr? He wahs ihn yhour rheality?” skekKel asked.

“Yes,” skekTah nodded, surprised. “He is our General and my ally. Was…he present here?”

“Yehs, bhut ohnly ah lhong tihme ahgo,” skekKel admitted. “He tooh wahs ouhr Gheneral befhore skekUhng.”

“At least that didn’t change. So skekUng took his title once skekVar died here,” skekTah muttered. “That sounds like something the skekUng in my reality would do.”

“Wouhld doh?” skekKel questioned. It almost sounded like… “Ihs skekVahr ahlive ihn yhour wohrld?”

“Yes! Most of my allies are,” skekTah confirmed. “I’ve seen none of them here, though.”

“Their nahmes! What ahre they?”

The Counselor could not contain himself. The thought of any of their fallen still being alive lit a fire of hope in his chest.

skekTah leaned back. skekKel fought to stifle his emotions. The last thing he wanted was to chase the other away now. After a moment, the Schemer spoke again.

“The ones I do not see here in your world are skekSa the Mariner, skekGra the Conqueror, skekLach the Collector, skekVar—”

skekKel recognized those names, the Collector most of all. Sadly, every name came up as dead in his memory. This deeply saddened him. Yet the thought of them being alive in skekTah’s world made him feel better. Somewhere, Skeksis he knew still lived and breathed.

“—unter.”

Wait! What?

“What whas that lahst nahme?” skekKel asked.

“…skekMal the Hunter,” skekTah replied.

skekMal.

skekMal!

“He lihves…”

“Well, I should hope he lives. He’s been getting reckless with his hunts lately,” skekTah groused, arms crossed over his chest. “I know losing his secondary arms lessened the number of weapons he could use at once but—”

“He what?!” skekKel snarled.

.o.o.o.o.

The dangerous aura was back, peppered with unspeakable rage. skekTah nearly fell off the bench in shock. Just the raw anger in the Counselor’s words…

“How?” skekKel growled. “How dihd he lohse his sehcondary ahrms?!”

“The Collector!” skekTah choked out, cowering. “He and the Collector had a squabble! Before the Collector became the favorite! skekLach used that to have skekMal punished! So the Emperor ordered his secondary arms removed!”

“He…did that…”

skekKel’s breathing came out as hissed gusts between parted teeth. Gone was the passive Counselor that seemed to be vying for skekTah’s favor. All there was now was an enraged Skeksis. skekTah suddenly wanted to flee.

Curiosity was a cruel temptress, unfortunately.

“W…Why do you care?” he choked out. “What is it to you, what has happened to skekMal in my world?”

“Behcause he ahnd Ih wehre friehnds!” skekKel barked.

.o.o.o.o.

Fury boiled over like water from a pot. skekKel could not see an end to the raw red-hot anger that filled his mind, his vision, his emotions. It was all-consuming.

Just the thought, the very thought, of the proud Hunter being subjected to such a cruel punishment enraged him. And by the Emperor’s order, no less!

He barely registered the terror that had swallowed the pint-sized Schemer. Keyword—barely. But he did notice it. He recognized its significance.

He struggled to calm himself, venting his rage like steam from a kettle. Slow, deep breaths. Though he sensed there was much more to this story, he needed to slam the lid on his anger now before it could race out of his control.

“Ih…ahm sohrry…fhor that.”

The red was gone from his vision but his face still felt hot. The muscles in his hands twitched violently, urging him to find and break something. He resisted. He was a being of control, not some feral animal. He could overcome this primeval rage of his.

And overcome it, he did.

skekTah still cowered. This display had been a bad move, skekKel knew this. But it had been unavoidable. He could only hope he could pick up the pieces and recover this chance before the Schemer could withdraw, taking the rest of this story with him.

“skekMahl…whas ah dhear friehnd ohf mihne,” he explained. “Weh wouhld goh hunting together, nhot lhong ahfter the dihvision. Iht wahs ah goohd relationship betwheen uhs.”

“…skekMal took me hunting once. It’s how I broke my back,” skekTah ventured bravely. “If it wasn’t for him, I probably would have died that day. He truly is a dear friend.”

“Yhou twoh…wehre ahllies?”

“We are allies. I take it your skekMal has died. Mine still lives.”

At this, the Counselor’s jaw dropped.

This tiny scrap of a Skeksis, an ally of the Hunter? It seemed inconceivable. skekMal did not make a habit of taking in waifs. If one could not handle themselves, the Hunter usually did not bother with them. One needed to be able to stand on their own two feet before daring to ask for help, that was skekMal’s creed.

Yet…that wild fighting style…

It could only have come from prolonged contact with the Hunter. There was simply no other way such a ferocious fighting method would be known or employed. Granted, the Schemer was not in his right mind at the time, but such actions were not performed on autopilot. That came from practice and experience, even if it was latently.

There was no hint of a lie on the smaller Skeksis’ face. This was pure truth. For whatever reason, skekTah had become allies with one of the most feared Skeksis in the court’s history.

And that Skeksis was still alive back in the Schemer’s world…

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah could see the gears grinding in skekKel’s mind. It was to be expected. One did not look at the Schemer, scrawny and short and frail, and think of him as an ally to a Skeksis such as skekMal. It had thrown many for a loop in the past. It appeared to do so here too.

How amusing.

What was also to be expected, yet unexpected in a way, was a supposed alliance between skekKel and skekMal.

skekTah could certainly understand how such an alliance could be made and maintained. Both were big, powerful, and held great influence with the Emperor for their individual occupations. skekKel guided the courtesans and advised the Emperor, serving as an earpiece and mouthpiece to Emperor skekSo. skekMal roamed the wilds of Thra, hunting game and Gelfling to keep castle life running properly via food and essence. Just their personalities, so similar, would be enough to build a friendship off of.

It was a vast difference from how skekTah had befriended skekMal back home. It would actually be more precise to say that he didn’t befriend skekMal at all. skekVar had brought them together and frequent close contact birthed their friendship rather than awkward dialogue between the two very different Skeksis.

It was the bold declaration of friendship that had stopped the Schemer cold. Those same words echoed in his head from a time long since past. His heart ached with those words, mourning the fallen Machinist.

“You were?” he dared to ask, desperate to abandon the thought of skekHak.

“Weh wehre,” skekKel confirmed. “He…ihs ahlive…ihn yhour wohrld?”

“Very much so, last I checked,” the Schemer confirmed.

“…Those that yhou have lhisted…ahre dhead here,” skekKel stated, gaze cast to the stony floor. “They dhied lhong ahgo. Bhut they ihndeed wehre here ohnce.”

skekTah felt his heart clench. It was agonizing. Bitterness swelled in him.

They had been here. His allies, his precious friends, had been in this world. And they were all dead now. He had missed them.

Perhaps it was for the best. The urge to approach them here may have been too powerful. But it did not erase the ache in his chest. The thought of any of them being dead, of meeting a fate similar to or worse than skekHak’s, brought great pain to his heart. He didn’t want to think of it.

But he had to. That was part of this reality’s history. skekVar, skekSa, skekGra, and skekMal were all dead here. He could never see them.

They were dead, far from his reach.

“Ih ahm sohrry,” skekKel said.

“It’s…not your fault. I mean, heh…it’s not like you killed them,” skekTah said, trying to laugh it off.

It was a poor attempt.

The silence stretched awkwardly between them for several minutes. skekTah’s mind raced with the horrid information he had been given. He wanted something, anything, to break the silence. To tear his mind from this. He did not wish to contemplate it.

“skekMahl…wahs punished ihn yhour wohrld,” skekKel muttered.

A subject change. Perfect. It was a dark one, but it was better than thinking about death.

“He and skekLach squabbled over hunting trophies. They parted ways shortly after that,” skekTah explained. “skekLach decided to go hunting alone and encountered a ruffnaw. That’s how he lost his eye and arm in my world. When he became the Collector and the favorite, his first act was to have skekMal punished for leaving him back then. The Emperor…decided to have skekMal’s secondary arms removed…under the declaration that it was a violation of common Skeksis etiquette.”

“Cohmmon Skheksis ehtiquette,” skekKel hissed bitterly.

“We all knew why it was actually happening. skekUng performed the amputations…but they didn’t go as planned.” skekTah found his fingers drifting over the faint white scars that tore along the backs of his hands. “After all, who in their right mind would sit still while having limbs amputated?”

skekKel made a noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a growl. skekTah decided wisely not to look the other in the eye. The Schemer feared what expression he may find there. He lightly stroked his scars and continued to relay his tale.

“skekMal kept lashing out at skekUng. I…was afraid the Emperor may decide to order a worse punishment…so I volunteered to restrain him.”

“Yhou?”

“Me,” skekTah chuckled weakly. “Me, the pathetic Schemer. skekUng laughed too…but the Emperor let me try. If I failed, I would be punished along with skekMal. I…couldn’t leave the Hunter there to suffer…”

.o.o.o.o.

It took all the Counselor had not to rise from his seat and bellow to the stars in rage. With every image that skekTah’s words drew, the scene only grew worse in skekKel’s mind. He could picture the punishment clearly, as if he was a witness to the event.

To hear the Schemer say that he volunteered to restrain the Hunter brought skekKel pause.

Nobody could restrain the Hunter. Nobody. Nothing could except death itself.

Yet skekTah’s words implied that it could be—and had been—done in his world.

“So I did as ordered,” skekTah continued, fingers still stroking his other hand. “I went to skekMal and held his hands to keep him from moving, from attacking skekUng. I did it in mercy, so skekMal could hold his dignity and pride to the very end. They could hurt him…but I wouldn’t let them break him.”

skekMal was not an easily broken Skeksis. His pride was immense and most things seemed incapable of harming him. skekKel could only name a few times where he’d seen the Hunter hesitate, falter, or crumple. But he’d never seen the other break down, be it under pressure or pain.

But he knew there must be a limit. Everyone had a limit. Just because he’d never seen the Hunter hit his did not mean that said limit did not exist.

skekTah went on the describe the gruesome amputation that followed. Just the imagery that the Counselor’s mind conjured up was enough to make one feel ill. skekKel was no exception. He fought to blot out the images, eyes scanning around to find anything better to focus on.

They landed on skekTah’s hands.

They were small, delicate things with long, spindly fingers and sharp, curved nails. They were a lot like skekFer’s hands, made for creating, not destroying. Yet the hidden potential for destruction lingered there, as it did in all Skeksis.

The Schemer’s right hand gently massaged the back of his left hand, long fingers working the muscle. Perhaps it was a calming motion to skekTah. skekKel focused on the motion, listening to the words but ignoring the images that tried to flood his mind, his vision.

It seemed to be working. The images began to fade, the story becoming words alone. Thank Thra for that.

skekKel sighed, relaxing. skekTah was speaking of his first wild state, when he’d struck skekUng. It had occurred directly after this punishment of skekMal’s. Though his spines still bristled at the knowledge, skekKel forced himself to disengage from this knowledge.

It was a past event, done and gone. He could do nothing about it. He had no power over it.

It hurt to think about. To have one’s secondary arms removed, though vestigial as they were, had to have been a painful recovery. And for skekMal, who had taken liberty to keep his minor arms functioning enough to bear small weapons and grasp at prey, it had to have been a nasty loss. To even think of that occurring in front of him…

That’s when he saw the white on skekTah’s hand.

At first skekKel thought it to be a pale blotch on the Schemer’s skin. His hands were usually hidden beneath the cuff ruffle of his sleeve, leaving long fingers exposed. Perhaps lack of sunlight there had made his hands paler than the rest of him.

Then the Counselor noticed the sharpness of it. It was not a large blotch of paleness. It was a sharp line of white cutting across the gray of skekTah’s skin. It didn’t look natural at all.

skekKel’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He inclined his head, as if to listen closer to skekTah’s words. In reality, he was getting a better look at those thin hands.

There was not just one sharp line of white. There were three, long white lines that cut across the back of skekTah’s right hand. A bit of squinting caused the Counselor to notice a fourth, small cut that curved between skekTah’s index finger and thumb, vanishing beneath to his palm.

Those did not look natural. Those were not accidental cuts either. Those looked intentional.

They looked like claw marks.

More squinting, to discern light from shadow that played across skekTah’s left hand, revealed similar marks. Both of the Schemer’s hands bore these…scars. They had to be scars. No other marks could become that white.

They reminded skekKel of the claw marks across the Schemer’s back. He’d noted them when he’d removed the thick carapace to check on skekTah’s back brace after the rakkida attack. Curiosity had bitten him back then but he’d wisely chosen not to pursue it.

Perhaps now he could afford to.

skekTah was done speaking. The Schemer just sat there, quietly massaging his hand. He looked troubled.

Bringing up skekMal and this punishment had been something deep. He had trusted skekKel enough to share such a thing with him. skekKel was glad for this show of trust.

He just prayed his next actions did not destroy it.

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah sighed, trying to drive out the thickness in his throat. Bringing up that punishment was a conflicted affair in him. He didn’t like talking about it.

skekMal had survived it and came out stronger. That’s what mattered.

Yet thinking about those few weeks of recovery, of skekMal being confined to his bedchambers, made the Schemer’s heart clench painfully. To think that was only a few decades ago. It felt like it was only a few days...

Was skekMal worried about him? Had he noticed that the Schemer was gone? Was the Hunter looking for him?

skekTah sighed. He hoped so. If anyone realized he was missing, it would be skekMal.

He jolted suddenly. Hands were on his own, carefully prying them from his lap. His golden gaze met skekKel’s.

“What are you doing?” skekTah asked.

“Where dihd yhou ghet these?”

Long fingers, stronger than his, rougher than his, brushed against the sharp white scars across the back of his left hand. The Schemer jolted. The Counselor eyed the scars critically before glancing at the Schemer. skekTah quailed, sinking in on himself.

_Oh Thra, why? No! Why?_

“skekTah?” skekKel asked, gentle, calm, patient. Yet his fingers stayed on those scars, tracing them, as if trying to figure them out.

“Why do you care?” The words were out before skekTah could stop them.

“Why shouldn’t Ih cahre?” skekKel countered. “Where dhid yhou ghet these, skekTah? Ih nhoticed schars ohn yhour bhack tooh, when ih rehmoved yhour carahpace befhore.”

skekTah didn’t want to answer. He wanted to pull away, flee from the other, and cower in skekLa’s room. Why, oh why, did skekKel have to notice those? Why did he have to notice any of skekTah’s scars?

“Ih ahsk behcause yhou dho nhot lhook lihke the tyhpe toh enghage ihn cohmbat, fhits ahside. skekLah tohld meh yhou dhespised such things,” skekKel explained. “Soh why wouhld yhou have schars?”

“…We all have scars. Some just hide them better than others,” skekTah replied evasively.

Nobody had escaped from the division unmarked. Everyone in the castle bore scars, however minor they were. Not all of them were purely physical. Over time, more scars of all kinds accumulated. Battle—physical, emotional, mental, and social ones—took their toll over the hundreds of trine that they had existed. Even skekTah could not escape this.

“Dhid sohmeone hurt yhou?” skekKel asked.

“…Many have hurt me. We all hurt each other.”

“Ih doh nhot wahnt ehvasive ahnswers, skekTah,” the Counselor said, frowning. “Ihf yhou doh nhot wish toh tehll meh, then dohn’t.”

“Then why ask?”

“Cuhriosity,” skekKel replied. “Ahgain, yhou ahre saihd toh nhot lihke cohmbat.”

“I indeed do not. I’m not exactly big and powerful, if you couldn’t guess,” skekTah muttered bitterly.

skekKel frowned but said nothing. Just kept rubbing long fingers across the scars of the Schemer’s left hand.

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah’s evasiveness was duly noted. The Schemer did not wish to say how he gained these scars. That was understandable. Perhaps the event behind these was too personal to divulge. skekKel resolved not to ask.

It did not dim his curiosity, unfortunately.

skekLa had told him much about skekTah after the incident with the Spiniferus lerouge. skekTah was small but sneaky, withdrawn but cunning, physically weak but mentally powerful. He was not a fanatic of combat or the outdoors. He bore strong ties to those he called his allies. He was a good spy and a skilled blackmailer.

For someone who avoided combat, skekTah seemed to get into a lot of fights and dangerous situations. Striking skekUng, breaking his back in a fall, and now these strange scars. Where could they have come from? A wild animal?

Closer inspection made something frighteningly obvious to the Counselor. The width of the scars roughly matched where his own talons could reach. It was as if…a Skeksis…had made these…

He was about to ask about this when the Schemer spoke again.

“I gained these during skekMal’s punishment. I let him tear into my hands so he would not scream.”

skekKel froze instantly.

“skekUng would’ve enjoyed it, you know. Hearing skekMal, the great and mighty Hunter, the most feared Skeksis in the entire court, scream in agony as his minor arms were removed. It would’ve given skekLach a lot of pleasure too,” skekTah said, a crooked smirk on his beak. “I could do nothing. The Emperor would not hear us, would not let us speak in skekMal’s defense. So I saw fit to deny them that pleasure. I volunteered to restrain him in the only manner I knew how. I was willing to sacrifice my hands, my very writing ability, so that skekMal could rise against them after this. To rise up stronger and even more feared than ever before.”

“…skekMahl…ghave yhou these?” skekKel asked.

He looked upon the scars again. Laying his own talons to them, they were an almost exact match. Add in the right flexing of his hands and the Counselor was sure he could rip these scars open, make them look just as they did when the Schemer had first received them. It was that close of a match with his own hands. That alone was terrifying to realize.

These scars, they were not caused by a wild beast. They were inflicted by another Skeksis. By the Hunter himself.

And skekTah received them willingly.

skekTah, afraid of pain, avoidant of combat, stood before the entire court and received these scars…in order to protect the pride and dignity of the Hunter.

“Funny, huh? I don’t like fighting. I don’t like getting hurt…but this was different,” skekTah continued, head bowed. “When I saw skekMal up there, I knew he was crying for help inside. He was scared. I couldn’t leave him like that, not by himself. Heh! skekVar always did say I was a little masochistic on the inside…”

“Dihd noh ohne ehlse trhy toh stohp this?” skekKel breathed, feeling his rage bubbling forth again.

“Nobody dared. I just picked my moment perfectly. Anyone else likely would’ve failed had they attempted what I did,” the Schemer replied. “Not even skekVar dared, though he wanted to.”

skekKel’s breathing grew harsh and shaky.

The Emperor…allowed this… No, the Emperor ordered this. Just like he ordered skekLa’s finger broken when she refused to punish that Podling so long ago. Just like he’d enacted that law forbidding the coupling of Skeksis. The Emperor hurt others without care. That was the Skeksis way.

It was a way that skekKel had grown to hate.

He released skekTah’s hands. He didn’t trust himself to hold onto those delicate, scarred hands. In his current mood, he may very well crush them. That would be too much.

The Emperor… How dare he?

How dare he?

How DARE he?!

“If needed, I would’ve let skekMal mangle my hands,” the Schemer said, pulling his hands close to himself. “I would’ve given up writing. It’s the most I could’ve done. I’m not much use to him beyond spying. I’m not much use to anyone beyond what I see and hear. Nobody needs me for anything else now.”

“Dohn’t sahy that!” skekKel growled, nearly beak to beak with the smaller suddenly.

skekTah was cowering. He was scared. But those words, they were so broken, so sad. Did the Schemer truly think this of himself? Did he demean himself so much?

The Counselor did not like it. It made him angry.

“Yhou cahnnot lhet the Ehmperor dhestroy yhou lihke that!” skekKel declared. “skekMahl behcame yhour ahlly behcause he sahw something ihn yhou. Ih should knohw. He sahw iht ihn meh tooh. He ihs nhot jhust yhour ahlly, ihs he?”

skekTah shook harder. The Counselor knew that he was reaching the truth. There was a bond there, a deep one. It transcended the one-sided beneficial alliances that most Skeksis held. This was an abnormal relationship. It was much too deep.

“He ihs yhour friehnd tooh, ihsn’t he?”

.o.o.o.o.

skekTah shuddered. Oh Thra, skekKel knew. He understood. This wasn’t happening…but it was.

“Yes. Yes, he is,” skekTah choked.

“The Ehmperor has hurt mhany ohver tihme,” skekKel said, turning his narrowed gaze to the skies. “Noh ohne ihs sahfe frohm his crhuelty. Weh have suhffered much here tooh.”

skekTah nodded in understanding. Ever since the Gelfling Gathering, Emperor skekSo knew only how to hurt. Gone were the jovial days of grand festivities and merriment. Now there was only a cold, dark air about the court, flooded with an urge to destroy that which would spell out their doom—the Gelfling.

“Tehll meh, skekTah, has the Ehmperor ehver ehnacted ah lahw ahgainst mahting?”

“…Mating?” skekTah repeated, confused.

Mating. Reproduction, usually between two individuals to bring forth children. The Schemer knew most life was capable of it…but Skeksis?

“Why would there be a law like that? Skeksis don’t…do that,” skekTah replied.

Doubt suddenly gnawed at him. skekKel wouldn’t ask something pointless. There was a deeper meaning behind this. But why ask something like that? As a rule, Skeksis usually abhorred each other. Mating meant intimacy, affection kept up over time. Things Skeksis did not experience. It was simply unheard of.

…But he and skekHak had been close. Not that close, but it could be ruled as unusual in Skeksis terms. They had been affectionate, in a minor form. It was kept in secrecy between them.

“…Right?” skekTah added, suddenly hesitant about his last words.

“Perhaps iht has nhever cohme uhp ihn yhour wohrld,” skekKel commented. “Bhut ihn ouhrs…”

It hit skekTah like a rock.

The gooey affection between skekSil and skekLa. The way the Illustrator would look at the Chamberlain, talk about him. The numerous drawings of him that she had evasively called ‘practice’. There had been so much Gelfling-like affection those actions that even skekTah could see it plainly.

It wasn’t just Gelfling-like. It was entirely Gelfling. An emotion experienced by non-Skeksis.

Love.

Then skekSil and skekLa…and even skekFer and skekKel…

“Oh Thra,” he whispered, suddenly horrified. “I… I noticed it…but I…I never thought…”

“The Ehmperor fhorbid mhating behtween Skheksis,” skekKel explained. “Iht whas ohne ohf his fhirst lhaws, seht ihn plhace lhong ahgo. Perhaps mhating ihs nhot dhone ihn yhour wohrld, skekTah, bhut iht ihs pehrformed ihn sehcret here.”

“You and skekFer…and skekLa and skekSil,” skekTah said shakily. “You four are…mates…?”

“Weh ahre,” skekKel confirmed. “Iht mhust beh dhone ihn sehcret. Ihf weh wehre fhound ouht…”

“Banishment…or worse,” skekTah predicted.

“Yhes,” the Counselor nodded, frowning. “The Ehmperor ihntervenes ihn mhatters that doh nhot cohncern him, ihn ohrder toh prehserve his throne.”

“Any of us would if we were on the throne,” skekTah countered, though it was reluctantly. “You do what you must to keep your situation from growing worse.”

“Ihndeed, bhut iht cahn beh dhone without such mheasures ahgainst ohne’s ohwn khind!” skekKel growled bitterly.

“Would you tolerate others having children that could usurp you?” skekTah asked. “I’m not sure if I would.”

“With ahge cohmes ehxperience. The yhoung cahn beh taught,” skekKel reasoned.

skekTah settled back, his mind a muddled mess. He had wondered at the origin of those strange actions, that gooey affection that skekLa perpetually showed. He had initially thought it was a flaw in her character, a Skeksis with the overly-emotional heart of a Gelfling. Now he knew it stemmed from something deeper than just that.

“Why would you do something that risky? You could be banished for it,” skekTah asked.

“Behcause iht ihs worth iht toh uhs,” skekKel replied. “Weh ahre nhot jhust creahtures ohf dharkness. Ahs the Illuhstrator ohnce saihd, weh ahll have light ihnside ohf uhs. Weh ahre both, light ahnd dhark.”

“…I can’t say I fully understand your reasoning,” the Schemer admitted, looking away. “The closest I’ve come to anything like that…is a very close relationship with skekHak the Machinist, my friend. We…transcended our own self-loathing very early on after the division…before he died. We told nobody of our discovery. We just stayed together. Even with all the bonds I hold now, none can match up to what I had with skekHak…”

“Ih uhnderstand that fheeling,” skekKel said. He paused before sighing, looking a bit lost for words. “skekTah… Yhou sahy skekMahl ihs ahlive ihn yhour wohrld. He has lhong bheen dhead here. Cahn yhou…tehll meh abhout him? How he ihs dhoing ihn yhour wohrld?”

“Huh?” skekTah blinked, surprised. After a moment, he smiled and nodded. “Sure.”

He looked up to the stars and spoke.

Beyond the amputation, skekMal had survived everything else life had thrown his way. The Schemer described the first few hunts, the formation of the hunting party, and his own part as the lookout. He told of the many beasts that had fallen to the Hunter, slain by tooth and claw, arrow and blade. The esteem and regalement skekMal had gained prior to the Gelfling Gathering. The respect and the fear of every living creature on Thra.

And it surprised him when skekKel too began to share his own stories. The hunts he and skekMal had gone on. Their adventures, the animals they hunted, the discoveries they made. They were just as wild and fantastical as the ones skekTah told, yet every story rang with identical truth.

For a while, skekTah could almost see the stories playing out in the stars above them. He hoped skekKel could see them too.

.o.o.o.o.

“I haven’t seen Lord skekKel in hours!”

“I’m sure he’s okay. I bet he and Lord skekTah are getting along fine, Lady skekFer,” skekLa reassured, grasping her friend’s hands.

“I hope so. I’m afraid of what could’ve happened if they fought,” the Gardener explained, trying to suppress her fear. “Normally I would not be…but after that rakkida…”

“It’s fine, Lady skekFer!” the Illustrator promised. “I know Lord skekTah. I doubt he would attack Lord skekKel. And I know Lord skekKel would not attack him. I’m sure they’re both fine.”

“Oh, I hope so. It’s been so long and we’ve heard nothi—”

Voices came from outside. The Gardener fell silent.

Perhaps some of the court passing by. But this late at night? No, it couldn’t be.

That only left…

The door opened and skekTah darted in. skekLa rose to greet him, smile growing when skekKel followed after him, closing the door after himself. The Schemer slunk to his usual spot by the wall, making a noise of surprise when he noted the presence of skekFer.

“Were you waiting for us?” he asked.

“I was getting worried!” skekFer replied, bustling to her mate. “Are you okay?”

“Ih ahm fhine. Yhou should knhow this,” skekKel reassured, smiling at her. “Weh lhost trahck ohf tihme, that ihs ahll.”

“So you were together!” skekLa cried triumphantly.

“…We were,” skekTah confirmed. “We were just talking.”

“Did it work? Are you guys friends now?” the Illustrator asked hopefully.

“…You set this up,” the Schemer guessed.

“That sounds like such a devious thing! I just…nudged you both in the right directions,” skekLa corrected lightly.

“…You set this up,” skekTah repeated.

“You didn’t fight, did you?” skekFer asked, looking at the Schemer in concern.

“Noh fighting wahs dhone, skekFehr,” skekKel promised. “Jhust tahlking.”

“Well?” skekLa asked, looking between them expectantly.

“Oh Thra, yes! Happy?” skekTah barked, annoyed. “I’m not…that much afraid…of skekKel anymore. We’re…friends…I guess?”

skekKel chuckled. “Weh have cohme toh ahn unhderstanding, Illuhstrator. Things ahre fhine behtween uhs nhow.”

“Yay!” skekLa cried.

skekTah yelped when arms looped around him, hugging him close. His feet left the ground and he shrieked in panic as he was twirled. When his feet hit stone again, he shoved skekLa away and grasped at the wall to keep his balance.

“Don’t do that! What is wrong with you, skekLa?!” he hissed, feeling dizzy.

“Sorry! I’m just… Oh, I’m so excited! I’m so glad you two get along now!” the Illustrator gushed happily. “I knew if you found common ground and talked, you’d get along! And I was right! Aaaawww!”

“Ugh… Great, I feel sick. Thanks,” skekTah groaned, hugging the wall. “If anyone else touches me, I’m spiking them. This, I swear on Thra…”

“Nohbody wihll touch yhou, skekTah,” skekKel promised with a light chuckle.

“Thanks…” the Schemer groaned.

After a while, he finally settled and let the Gardener get close to him. He ate some of the berries she gave him to help settle his flipping stomach. This seemed to lessen his sour mood and erase the urge to spike others.

skekLa smiled, looking to the Counselor. “I’m glad you both get along, Lord skekKel.”

“Yhou cahn thank skekMahl fhor that,” skekKel replied.

“Huh? skekMal? How?” the Illustrator asked, confused.

skekKel smiled. “Perhaps that ihs sohmething skekTah wihll tehll yhou himself ohne dhay.”

“Lord skekKel! No fair!” skekLa whined, swatting his arm in mock-anger. “Tell me!”

The Counselor merely laughed.

skekFer sighed as she watched them, a pleasant smile on her beak. skekTah shook his head.

“He told me…about you two…and skekLa and skekSil,” he admitted lowly. “I did not think of you as someone brave, but to defy a law enacted by the Emperor… I’m not sure even I could do that.”

The Gardener gave a small smile. “There are lots of things one will do for love. I guess breaking laws is one of them.”

“And here I thought the Chamberlain was incapable of loving anyone but himself,” skekTah added.

“Perhaps in your world,” skekFer said, looking back at him. “As you’ve seen, this world is much different from yours. I hope that isn’t a problem for you, Lord skekTah.”

“Not like I can argue now, if I wanted to,” skekTah shrugged. “But I don’t. What you do is your choice. I’m the foreigner here. I’m the one without choice.”

“You’ve could’ve chosen to keep avoiding Lord skekKel,” skekFer argued gently. “You could’ve chosen to attack me that day when you were poisoned, stuck in bed with just me in the room. You could’ve refused skekLa’s help when you first got here. I believe you still have plenty of choices, Lord skekTah.”

“…It appears I do,” skekTah admitted.

They watched skekLa swat at skekKel, the larger laughing at her feeble attempts at mock-aggression. It was amusing to watch.

“Thank you for keeping me a secret, skekFer. I appreciate it, from all of you.”

“We appear good at breaking laws, Lord skekTah. What’s one more…for a friend?”

“…Thank you.”

.o.o.o.o.

“Ghood night, skekFehr.”

“Good night, Lord skekKel,” skekFer said, nuzzling him once more before slipping into her room.

The Counselor smiled before marching the rest of the way to his own chambers. Once he was safely inside, he deposited his gift on a table. He changed for bed. The hour was late and he’d lost much of his usual time to sleep in pursuit of the Schemer.

It had been a worthwhile pursuit.

Dressed in lighter robes for sleep, he turned back to the table. On it laid a single long white spine, broken from skekTah’s tail. The Schemer had given it to him before they left the garden.

_“I do not know why I have these. Nobody else does. Perhaps it is to attest to my ‘prickly nature’, as skekLa calls it. Whatever the reason, I have hidden these from everyone in my world. You are the first to know of them. They are good for cutting and stabbing, but are otherwise much too fragile to be used for murder. These are tools to cripple, to maim and torture. I have used them as such, the few times I’ve put them to proper use. Perhaps you can find another use for them.”_

The spine was long and flat, the edges serrated. It did not look very dangerous, but the Counselor had seen what it was capable of when you had many of them stabbing into the same area. It was certainly fragile, with how easily it had snapped off of the Schemer’s tail. Fragile but dangerously sharp. Even a light touch on the edges could draw blood.

How fitting for the delicate, but dangerous, Schemer.

skekKel doubted he could use it for much. A knife would be a better weapon, both in strength and power. Perhaps as an arrowhead or a weaker cutting tool. It was certainly incapable of killing by itself unless aimed with perfect precision.

He took it as a gift of friendship. A memento from a complicated Skeksis that he was beginning to know. A Skeksis he hoped to learn more about, for however long they had left.

skekKel retired to bed for the evening.

He dreamt of skekMal and the Schemer. The three of them hunted.


End file.
